


Hopeful Still - A Green Ember AU

by meadowrosewrites



Category: The Green Ember - S. D. Smith
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Daggler, Ember - Freeform, Rabbits, first warren, green - Freeform, rabbit - Freeform, rabbitswithswords, thegreenember
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-07
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:22:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 26,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27930700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meadowrosewrites/pseuds/meadowrosewrites
Summary: Weezie lives a comfortable life with her mother and twin sister- well, as comfortable a life as one can live in a city enslaved by the tyrannical Morbin Blackhawk.  The rabbits are told as long as the follow the rules of the Governor, they will be let alone to live their lives.  Airen, Layra, and Weezie are careful to do just that, but their haven of happiness is destroyed when without prompting or reason, Captain Daggler invades the family farm and takes Weezie captive with the intent of brutal murder, leaving her mother and sister alive.With the help of a wounded soldier, Weezie succeeds in breaking out of prison, fleeing to the slave camps far up north to escape the evil Daggler's reach.Every step of her journey she meets new trials to test her bravery and strength as everything she holds to is taken away by Morbin and his minions bit by bit until she is left with nothing but an unquenchable hope that she strives to share with everyone she meets.  Through it all she clings to the hope of a Mending to the hurts, a seed to rise from the ashes and bring light and life back to the world. Every night, no matter how dark, has a dawn.No matter how far the darkness beats her down, she will be hopeful still.
Comments: 7
Kudos: 9





	1. Weezie

It had started out as a day just like any other. Boring perhaps, but normal, comfortable, safe. Weezie sniffed again, determined not to cry despite the heavy weight of fear pressing in on all sides. She squeezed her eyes shut, blocking out the flickering firelight against the crumbling dirt walls, and hugged her legs closer to her chest. She hoped it would all be over soon, but she had heard of the horrible things the evil captain Daggler did to his prisoners. She caught the sob as it came up her throat and heavily swallowed it back down. She  _ must  _ be brave. For mother, for Layra, for her dear, dead father… She tried to think of something else, something to take her mind off the worries over her fate. Her mind ran back over the events of the day, all the way back to the beginning and with relief she recited back to herself that sweet last morning spent at home on the farm.

Layra was up first- like she always was- the quilt on her side of the bed smoothed out neatly, even though she knew it would be messed up as soon as her twin got up. But that's just how Layra was, always neat and tidy. 

The bed was so cozy and warm under the quilt, Weezie wasn't quite ready yet to get up and get dressed for the day, so she pretended to still be asleep. She kept her eyes closed and head against the pillow as she listened to her sister go about her morning routine. She heard humming and splashing water and knew she was washing her face at the basin on their dresser. Weezie finally couldn't hold still any longer, and stretched her legs out underneath the covers, peeking out of one eye while she did so to see if her sister had noticed. Layra was smirking at her around the comb she was using to brush her curly black fur in a way that made it obvious she knew her sister was only pretending to be asleep, but Weezie wasn't quite ready to give up the game. She squirmed back into her pillow with a happy sigh and a wide smile across her face. 

"Hm, hm," Layra hummed, tapping the comb on the side of her face. Weezie sneaked another peek through one half closed eye, then squirmed again in anticipation for whatever her sister planned to do this time to get her out of bed. 

"Poor Weezie." Layra said, she was much closer now, possibly right next to the bed, but Weezie didn't dare to peek. The game was always over once Layra saw her eyes open. 

"Poor, poor Weezie." Layra repeated, sitting down on the side of the bed. Weezie stifled a giggle. 

"She must be so,  _ so  _ tired to be  _ still  _ asleep," she said, leaning over and smoothing the rumpled quilt over her sister's shoulders. 

"I suppose," she paused, then resumed smoothing the quilt as she resumed her speech. "I suppose I should leave her to sleep and just eat all her breakfast for her. So that it doesn't go to waste." She patted her with a decisive air, then stood up from the bed. "Sleep well, sister, hopefully there will be something left for you to eat when you finally decide to wake up," 

She stood a moment smirking down at her sister, who rolled onto her back and stretched her fists over her head with a wide yawn.

"Oh, good  _ morning, _ Layra!" Weezie grinned. "Morning," she replied, then threw herself onto the bed and onto her sister, where the two rolled around giggling, trying to get untangled from the blanket. Weezie finally kicked her off the bed, shoving the quilt off and on top of her. Layra laughed from the floor, pushing the blanket off her now very rumpled head. "Alright, get up now lazy bones! I'll make the bed while you get yourself dressed." 

Weezie grinned her response, and bounced off the bed and to the closet to grab her favorite dress. Her mother had sewn it for her birthday gift last year, a dusty blue that she thought looked quite fetching with her faded red scarf. Not that it mattered much what she looked like, since the only rabbits she ever saw were her mother and sister and the occasional patrol buck.

The two sisters laughed their way down the stairs, with playful jabs at each other both physical and verbal. They sobered up once they entered the dining room to join their mother, but kept the cheerful grins on their faces. 

" _ Good _ morning, Mother!" Weezie declared, gently throwing her arms around her in a hug. Layra stepped up next to her mother, taking the pitcher out of her hands with a smile and resuming filling glasses so her hands would be free.

"Good morning, girls," Airen said with a soft smile, patting her Weezie's back.

_ Oh, mother. _ Weezie paused the replay of her morning to dwell on the pleasant memory of her dear mother. She always had that sad, tired feel about her, but Weezie could only begin to imagine how much pain she must have lived through. Her dear, brave mother. She knew Daggler had come and killed Father shortly after the Afterterrors had swept through, but she had been just a kit then and could hardly remember her father at all. She and Layra had once found a box of picture frames in the attic, showing their mother, young and happy with rich, dark curls like Layra's, always smiling and always with the same two bucks. One they knew was their father; Mother had shown them pictures of him, and even though she had been so young, Weezie felt she would recognize that jolly, kind face anywhere. The other they could only assume was their uncle, Mother's twin brother who had died when the king fell. Mother rarely spoke of him, and when she did it was with such deep sadness the girls decided to never purposefully bring it up. Weezie could only imagine how hard it would be to lose your twin, what would life be like if something happened to Layra? Would it even still be living anymore? 

And dear Layra. Tears finally snuck their way down her cheeks as she thought about her sister. She would never ever see her again. Her twinkly smile and beautiful face… Layra could do anything she set her mind to, they all relied on her so much.  _ It's a good thing they took me and not Layra, _ Weezie thought with a sniffle.  _ Mother and the farm need someone to take care of them.  _

It had always been Layra holding things together, clever, determined and strong. Father had been a joker, Mother said, and Weezie had taken it as her duty to be that too- to light up their lives and see them smile. Weezie was the sunshine, but Layra was the rock. 

Would they ever smile again? Weezie hoped so. She had always thought as long as they were together everything would be alright. But now, here she was. In Captain Daggler's dungeon. 

_ Unfair _ the thought seared through her mind and darkened her teary gaze.  _ Unfair! _ They had followed the rules! Followed Governor Winslow's laws and Lord Falcowit's commands! What had they done to deserve this? They had just come to their farm and taken her! Ignored her sister's screams and Mother's wails.  _ Unfair!  _ And Weezie realized as the tears started to flow, she hated them. She had only been afraid before; afraid they might slip up and be punished, afraid the laws would change and they would lose the farm, afraid of false accusations from neighbors, but she wasn't so much afraid anymore as she was angry. And as she sat there in that dark cell, awaiting whatever cruel death her Uncle's rival had planned for her, she realized what the word "evil" really meant.

So what now? She could sit here in the cold dark and wait for him to get around to killing her, or... could she dare to hope she could escape? The walls were dirt- hard-packed dirt full of rocks- but dirt nonetheless. She knew their ancestors once had dug great burrows deep into the ground, this could possibly even be one of them. She turned, placing first one hand then the next on the rough cell wall. She thought of her sister, her mother, and the portrait of her father sitting on Mother's bedside table. She remembered their shouts as they led her away, the cruel jeer on Daggler's face as he turned from her weeping mother, and Weezie started to dig. She tore at the dirt, grabbing rocks and trying to pry them out of the wall. When she finally broke one out, her fingers were raw and bleeding in one place where a jagged rock had cut her, but she continued to hack away at the hard packed dirt with the crude tool. She worked at this until she was too tired to continue, rolling her shoulder along the wall to rest her back against the cold dirt. She let out a long sigh and shifted a little to get a rock out of her shoulder blade. Then she heard it. Footsteps, the clatter of metal, voices, all of them getting closer. She tried not to panic. Surely it wasn't her time yet? Why would they send that many soldiers for one doe? She scrambled into one dark corner, drawing into as small a ball as possible. If they didn't see her they might look in another cell? Maybe they would leave the door open and she could make a dash for it. Maybe- she could make out words from the voices now, little snatches as they drew closer and became more intelligible. 

"...says...expecting...someday, but I'm...pretty surprised...a dumb thing...do right? Filthy traitor deserves...really." 

A second voice spoke, higher and a little easier to hear. "You don't think we should just take off his head right now though?"

"Nah, I don't really think that'll be necessary. I know Capt'n Daggler'll be wanting to do the finishing touches, but he won't be going anywhere like this."

They had paused almost right outside Weezie's door, and she held her breath squishing as far as she could into the shadows. So they weren't coming for her then? Who were they talking about?

"Did he say where he wanted us to put him?" A third voice spoke with an edge of irritation to it. 

"Nah, I don't think it really matters," the first voice rumbled. "Just throw him in an empty cell and remember which one it was. It ain't that hard, stop grumbling, Rimby. I'm heading to the hospital to get my arm looked after, yous can follow after you've done with 'im." 

"Right. Go on then." The second voice grunted. "Rimby, you got the keys?" 

"Aye." 

Weezie relaxed slightly. An empty cell, they had said. She was a little disappointed her curiosity wouldn't be satisfied, but glad to be still left alone. The jangle of keys could be heard outside her door, and Rimby spoke again. "Do you know if this one is occupied yet?" 

"How would I know?" The second said, "open it up and find out! He's not exactly a sack of flour to hang on to," 

Weezie heard Rimby mutter something under his breath while he sorted through the keychain, then to her sudden alarm, the sound of a key in the lock of  _ her _ door. Her mouth opened in a soundless gasp as she pressed herself into the jagged wall.  _ Please don't notice me, please don't notice me, _

The door swung open and a lean brown buck in uniform peered into the cell, the keys clanging together against the door.

"Is it empty?" The second buck asked from behind him.

"I think so," Rimby replied, he pulled back from the doorway, limping from a bandaged wound on his leg to make room for the second buck. 

"Good," he grunted, stepping forward with a body slung over his shoulder. He was wearing the same uniform as Rimby, the same uniform that Daggler and his men had been wearing that morning, and the same uniform as the one dressing the body he threw down onto the dirt floor. 

It landed with a thud at the stocky buck's feet, and with a look of disgust he kicked him further into the cell. The lifeless buck rolled over awkwardly, coming to a stop with his face smooshed into the floor.

"Why are we even bothering to lock him up, Gock? He'll likely be dead within the hour," Rimby said, frowning down at him. 

"I don't really know but it isn't really any of our business now is it," Gock said, pulling his pants up and adjusting his belt buckle. "I just don't want to be the one to drag him out of here once he's dead is all." 

Rimby gave a slight shrug in response, and stepped forward on his good leg to grab the doorknob. Weezie watched in anguish as the door swung shut, blocking out the torchlight once more and leaving her alone with the lifeless buck.

Weezie relaxed slightly in the corner she was still huddled in, allowing herself to breath normally now that the bucks' voices could be heard further down the hall. They hadn't seen her, but she also hadn't succeeded in getting out while the door was unlocked. She rested her head on her knees, allowing herself a moment to calm her racing heart before investigating her new cell-mate.  _ Was he even still alive?  _ Weezie wondered as she began to edge towards him. The buck moaned and turned his face to the side out of the dirt, answering Weezie's question. She paused, pursing her lips in thought. He was dressed like one of them, so why had they taken him down here and not to the hospital? Why did the other officers treat this colleague with such blatant disrespect? Weezie’s nose wrinkled in disgust.  _ They are just so _ **_evil_ ** .   
He was one of Daggler's men, her enemies. The ones who had murdered her father and taken her prisoner. Why did she still feel like it would be wrong to turn back to her digging? He had never shown anyone else compassion so why should he be shown it now? Weezie shook her head. If she turned her back on the wounded buck she would be no better than him. He didn't deserve compassion, but that wasn't going to stop her from giving it.

The buck moaned again as Weezie inched toward him, a piteous sound ending in a weak grunt. When she reached his side she gave him a quick look over. She was no medic, but it was easy to see he had been badly hurt. He had great gashes across his arms and legs that would need bandaged, but what stood out the most to Weezie was the gaping wound on the back of his head. It was deep she guessed, but from what she could tell in the dim light it was also still bleeding, and that was bad. She didn't know much but she did know that someone could die from running out of blood, so stopping the bleeding needed to be her first goal. 

Weezie grimaced, waving her useless hands at her sides in frustration. Was there anything she could do for him? She didn't have anything with her to use for first aid, no cloths, bandages or water, just her and… her dress. 

Weezie frowned deeply, clutching the folds of soft blue cloth in her hands. Her birthday dress. The dress her mother had sewn her. With a fussy little whimper, she set to work gingerly wiping and dabbing at the buck's head. 

"You'd better be grateful for this," Weezie mumbled, frowning down at her work. The buck groaned, furrowing his brow and drawing his legs closer to his chest. Weezie drew back, studying him after the movement for any signs of change, but he only lay there, the frown remaining on his face. 

"I don't even know your name," she pointed out to him, attempting again to make a difference against the blood flow. After a few minutes she stopped, wiping her hand off on her skirt. She looked him over feeling utterly useless. 

"I don't- I don't know what I'm doing," Weezie lamented to the unconscious buck. "It won't stop- should I, what should I do?" She sat back from her patient, and stuck her lip out in a miserable pout. 

"That's just it then." She said, feeling the helpless sadness of earlier rise back up into her throat. "You're just gonna lay there and die-" she paused to rub at her eyes with a clean spot of her sleeve and unsuccessfully steady the shake to her voice. "You're just gonna die in here then." She sniffed back the tears, wondering why in the world she cared so much for this random officer. It just felt so wrong that someone would die like this, all alone with no one who cared for them nearby, so maybe that's why she found herself caring. So he wouldn't be alone.

The buck groaned again, and Weezie wondered if he felt the wound even in his sleep. She glanced over to the spot in the wall she had been digging at, then back to the unfortunate soldier. Very carefully, she wriggled up next to him and lifted his bloody head into her lap. She took his hand, still warm but trembling, into her own and held it tight. 

"Don't worry, " she said, a sob catching in her throat, "You aren't alone, I'm right here, and I'm gonna stay here with you." 

She couldn't tell if he could hear her or not, but she fancied the twitch in his frown and the shift of his other hand could be taken as some form of response.

"My name's Weezie. Well, Louise, but everybody just calls me Weezie." 

She began to cry now, finally letting the tears she'd held for hours come jerking out in sobs. "I don't know why they call me that," she said, "only, my Father called me it first, cause he said I had 'Weezieness'. But I still don't know what that means!" She bent her head down to her chest and let the last stubborn sobs march their way out so she could regain control of herself again. 

"I don't want to die in here!" She cried, clutching the buck's hand. "I want to see my mother again, hug my sister, and not ever see this horrid hole again." She sniffed loudly, rubbing her nose with her free hand.

The buck grunted. Weezie felt his hand clench beneath her's as he took a deep breath that came out in a jarring cough. 

"It- it's okay," Weezie patted his chest. The grunt became a groan as his whole body convulsed, head turning in her lap, his breaths sounding forced and painful. 

_ He's dying,  _ Weezie thought in horror, trying to think if there was something, anything she could do for him. Then, he opened his eyes. 

Weezie stared down in utter alarm as the buck's vacant gaze hardened and focused on her own. His next few breaths he took slowly and deliberately, meeting Weezie's gaze without blinking. After a few tense moments he spoke, forcing the words out between gritted teeth.

"Where is this?" 

"Daggler's dungeon." Weezie replied, completely taken aback. The buck groaned, his eyes rolling back in his head as he fought to keep them open. 

"I don't- I don't know how long it will be before they come back though," she continued. The buck tensed, seeming to make an attempt at sitting up, but very quickly slumped back down hazily blinking up at Weezie. 

"I thought you were dead," Weezie whispered, eyes wide. 

"No," the buck groaned in response, writhing his head and shoulders and finding Weezie's gaze again. "I'm not going to die in here, and neither are you. I'm going to get you out of here."


	2. Percy

Weezie wasn't really sure if this was the best thing to do. Perhaps if she were a medic there would be some thing she would know better and do. But she wasn't a medic, and the not-actually-dead buck wanted to get on his feet, so she helped him. Once standing, he staggered away from Weezie, losing his balance and catching himself heavily against the strong wooden door. He grunted, feeling for the doorknob. 

"It's locked," Weezie said flatly as he found it to be true. 

"Uuuugh," the buck groaned, rolling his shoulder along the door to rest his back against the wall. He stayed still for a moment, breathing heavily with his eyes closed. 

"I was trying to dig out…?" Weezie offered, gesturing in the direction of her hole.

"No," he gingerly shook his head. "That would take too long and be too noticeable. I'm gonna break the door down." 

Weezie widened her eyes in surprise. 

"Um, I hate to be a downer but you can barely stand. How's that going to work?"

"It's gonna have to." 

The buck pushed himself off the wall. Taking deliberate steps to keep his balance he turned to face the door. Weezie cringed as he threw himself against it, immediately crumpling to the ground with an agonized moan. He half curled into a ball, reaching his hands up to grab at his face. He stayed that way a moment braced against the pain as Weezie ran to his side.

"Are you alright?" she asked, gently grabbing him by the shoulders. 

"Yeah," he grunted, rolling over and attempting to rise, one hand still clutching at his brow. "Help me get up again."

Weezie grabbed him under the arm and lifted up as he used the wall for extra support. 

"Maybe there's a better way we can do this," she said, looking doubtfully at her half-conscious companion. The buck grimaced at the door. 

"It's gotta come down somehow," he said, mostly to himself. 

"Well, my mother says the best way to take a door down is by breaking it at the hinges," Weezie began, wondering why she hadn't thought of that sooner. The buck squinted down at her in confusion. 

"Your mother?" 

"Well, my uncle was in the army!" Weezie replied defensively, as though that might explain it. "Maybe you could just  _ try _ kicking the door down?" 

The buck slumped more heavily onto Weezie.

"I don't think I'll ever be able to hit it hard enough without falling over first," he said with a frown. "But I can still try," 

"Well, maybe you could lean on me!" Weezie said. "I'm strong! I can probably keep you upright and you can just kick away."

"I guess we can try," he said doubtfully, his head dropped to Weezie's shoulder and he closed his eyes to ride out a wave of pain. 

"Alright, whenever you're ready," the stocky doe said, bracing her feet and adjusting her grip on the buck's torso. 

"Right." The buck's eyes opened as he lifted his head up again, taking a quick determined breath. 

With one arm over Weezie's shoulders and the other out for balance, he leaned back on her, lashing out at the wall with a powerful kick. With how dark it was Weezie couldn't tell how effective the blow had been, but she was soon distracted by the buck preparing for a second try. It landed harder this time, the hinge breaking under the impact and swiveling off the last remaining screw. It was all Weezie could do with a shout to not tumble back from the momentum, clinging to the buck that had gone practically limp in her arms. She lowered him to the ground, sitting beside him so he could lean against her for support. He groaned, lids half closed as he rolled his head off to the side. 

"It worked!" Weezie said, patting his shoulder encouragingly. "One down two to go." 

The second hinge went much like the first, Weezie helping the buck to his feet once he was ready and holding him steady. It took him three kicks to break it from the wall, but the sturdy hinge holding on at the top showed no signs of budging while the two rested on the ground. 

"Can you even kick that high?" Weezie asked, looking dubiously over the buck's head.

"Usually," he replied without opening his eyes. Weezie frowned. 

"Hm." She turned her head to try and look down at his face, rubbing her cheek across his forehead. "I forgot to ask, what is your name?" 

"Percy?" He replied, half opening one eye and squinting up at her.

"Hu. Well nice to meet you, Percy," she said. "I don't know if you heard me earlier but my name is Weezie,"

"Weezie?"

"Yup. I don't really know why they call me that, but it's a nickname,"

"Oh," Percy grunted. 

"My  _ name _ is Louise but no one calls me that. I just go by Weezie." 

She paused, the only noise in the cell being the buck's uneasy breathing. 

"Do you have a nickname?"

"Squirrel?" Percy offered after a moment of thought, "I don't ever go by it, my brother just calls me that sometimes since I tend to be forgetful and have red fur."

"Oh, you have a brother?" Weezie asked in surprise as Percy shifted and let out a sigh. 

"Hm," he hummed in response, squinting up at the last hinge holding them back from freedom. 

"I don't know if you're strong enough to pull this off, but I'm thinking if I can push  _ off _ you I might be able to reach that high." 

" _ Well, _ " Weezie said, adjusting the arm she had around his back so she could shift to more easily look at him, "I  _ am _ pretty strong."

"Good," Percy grunted as he moved to stand.

Getting back up to their feet, Weezie planted her legs firmly apart from each other. Percy's arm went up and around behind her neck, where Weezie held firm to his wrist with one hand and gripped tightly his jacket in the other. Percy took a deep breath and let it out in one short, determined blast. 

"Ready?" 

"Ready. "

He pushed off the ground and off Weezie, his leg striking out at the upper hinge, but missing it just barely. They both toppled forward from the momentum, Weezie rolling off the wounded buck as soon as possible. He took a moment to recover, dazed from the sudden pain. 

"Let's try it again, " he gasped, grabbing at Weezie's sleeve far sooner than she had expected him to be ready. 

"You sure?" she asked, helping him to stand up again. 

Percy nodded his head, swallowing hard. "I'm running out of time, Weezie. I am going to get you out of here or die in the attempt."

"But- why?" Weezie asked as she adjusted her pose.

"Why?" The buck still seemed a little disoriented, blinking his eyes repeatedly as he adjusted the arm around Weezie's shoulders. "If you're here it means that Daggler intends to kill you. Don't you want to leave?" 

"Yes, but I meant why are you helping me?" 

"So you don't die?" Percy didn't seem to be understanding her question. He was dressed like one of Daggler's band, the patch showing his rank of Lieutenant stitched onto the shoulder of his jacket. He was one of them; why was he helping her escape? Just out of spite? 

"You just, you just want to save my life," she asked for clarification. 

"I may as well do something worth doing before I die," Percy forced out between gritted teeth and half panted breaths. 

"Well," Weezie said, still not satisfied with the answer, "let's do this then."

The buck's face set in a determined glower, he tried again. Weezie was more prepared this time for the motion she needed to brace for, and was able to be a more solid form for Percy to push off from. He managed to get his foot high enough this time, striking directly on the hinge with a great shout. The hinge snapped, and with a tremendous crash the door fell flat into the hallway outside. 

"Yes!" Weezie cried, helping Percy back to his feet as he struggled with the wave of pain from his head and the gash in his leg.

"We've got to move," Percy said between gasps. "The guards will be on us in no time." 

"Okay," Weezie pulled his arm back up around her shoulders and held it tight. "Let's go. " 

Percy nodded, and the two stepped out of the cell.

Weezie half dragged the wounded buck out the cell and around the corner, out into the torchlit dirt hallway where two very alarmed officers stood staring at the door- or rather where the door used to be. An edge of fear came to their alarm as the two rabbits stepped through the doorway. One buck took a defensive stance, drawing his sword from the scabbard at his side, while the other cried out, scrambling backwards then turning to run. Percy let go of Weezie, pushing off of her to lunge at the fleeing buck. He just barely managed to grab him, knocking him off balance and causing the two bucks to roll across the floor. Weezie gasped in horror. Percy had a slight upper hand from tripping him, but surely with how weak he was this would be the end of her friend.

The other buck slowly edged towards her, sword bared.

"Get back in there," he growled, never taking his eyes off the struggle.

Weezie looked wide eyed from the fight to the soldier. Percy needed help, but how could she get past him? She raised her hands in submission, taking a couple steps backwards toward the cell, but his attention was wholly on the fight happening in the hall. Weezie thought she might be able to risk it. Just as she got ready to dash past him and into the fray, the fight ended. One buck rose from the floor, holding the other's sword in his hand. The flickering shadows darkened his brow as he stood, fiery orange and frightening in the torchlight.

The buck paled, holding his sword out in front of him in an attempt to intimidate, only making him seem all the more feeble in comparison to the power of presence Percy currently commanded.

"Percy," he said, staggering backwards, "s-stand down and surrender. There's no way you can win." He glanced briefly in Weezie's direction as he spoke. "You- uh, I-"

She realized in a flash he might try to use her as a hostage if she didn't move right then, but Percy must have seen this too. As Weezie jumped backwards, losing her balance on the cell door and falling back onto her rump, Percy lunged forward, catching the officer's sword with his own and knocking it to the side. With the buck's front exposed he sent one leg out, striking him in the chest and knocking him over. The buck caught himself, scrambling to reach his sword, but the tip of Percy's blade was already to his throat.

"You know I would do it." Percy said, low and dangerous as the buck's eyes bulged in terror. He drew his hands back quickly from the sword, begging for mercy by the posture of his hands. 

"Weezie, take his keys." Percy said, not taking his eyes off the buck. Weezie obeyed immediately, clambering over the door. After a moment’s hesitation she snatched the keys off the officer's belt and held them up for Percy to see. 

“Open one of the cells.” 

This she did, scrambling to her feet while gripping the heavy ring in one hand. 

“It’s going to be one of the silver keys,” Percy said as she reached the nearest door. “If anyone's in there let them out." Then to the officer he said gruffly, "Get to your feet.” He obeyed quickly, keeping his hands up where Percy could see them. 

Weezie made sure no unfortunate rabbit was in the cell before stepping aside and telling Percy it was ready. He merely nodded his head towards the door, raising his eyebrows expectantly at his prisoner. The buck followed the unspoken direction, glancing wide eyed in Weezie's direction as he passed her.

"Weezie. Can you drag that other buck in here?" Percy asked, stepping up next to her to guard the door. "He's not dead don't worry."

_ Don't worry?  _ Weezie thought as she dragged the unconscious buck towards the open cell with a good deal of grunting.  _ You just disarmed and knocked out two other soldiers with your head cut open. I don't even really know whose side you're on or if I can trust you. I don't really even know who you are or what you did to get locked up! Don't worry? _

Percy just stood and watched her until she had him just about to the doorway, where he commanded the other buck to finish dragging him into the room.

Weezie pulled the door shut and locked it. She had to admit she got a certain amount of pleasure from locking away the evil rabbits, but the thought was entirely lost from her mind the moment she turned around. Whereas moments before Percy had seemed all-powerful and unstoppable, now he looked like he was only seconds away from passing out. Slumped against the wall, legs slipping out from under him, he was staring vacantly off at nothing, mouth slightly open and breathing labored. Weezie cried out and rushed to his side.

"Percy! Are you- are you okay?" she asked, catching him under the arms as he began to slide over.

"Hh?" He said without opening his mouth, finally blinking and meeting Weezie's gaze, seeming to wake up from his stupor.

"Are you okay?" she repeated, looking at him intently in the eyes. Percy blinked slowly, greater recognition present after the effort of peeling them open again.

"We need to keep going," was all he said, wrapping his arm around Weezie's neck and using her support to stand up. Weezie frowned but didn't really want to argue.

"Which way?" she asked.

"Straight."

Percy adjusted his grip on the sword handle and the two began to make their way down the hallway, Weezie mostly dragging him with his head resting on her shoulder. They went up a short flight of stairs, at the top of which Percy softly warned her to slow down.

"Daggler's office is just around the corner. It's unlikely he will be there, but there's almost always someone in there regardless." Weezie nodded, shifting Percy back up from where he had slid to. Carefully, she peeked around the corner.

"What are we dealing with?" Percy asked. Weezie frowned.

"There's three guys I can see, one's at the bottom of the stairs- I think his name is Rimby? He's talking to an ugly grey guy with a white face, and there's another buck, just kinda brownish, leaning in the doorway." Percy nodded along with the descriptions.

"We're going to need the element of surprise if we're going to get through, and we need to knock them all down or we'll be pursued. Rimby shouldn't be too much of a worry since he's already wounded, but Gordon and Rall are decent swordsmen." 

"So what do we do?" Weezie asked quietly, glancing back at their opponents nervously.

"Run at them, fast as you can,"

"What?" Weezie asked, not sure if she'd heard him right.

"I've got to get to them quick as possible before someone runs for help."

Weezie looked down at her companion. Barely upright, limply resting against her, and obviously in great pain. 

"Are you sure you can do this?" She asked dubiously.

"There isn't an option, Weezie. Remember what we did to get that last hinge knocked out?"

"Yeah?"

Percy lifted his head and looked her in the eyes. "Run at 'em."

So Weezie ran, dragging the limping buck alongside her.

It looked like Rimby was engaged in a story, judging by the animated gesticulations and mildly interested expressions of his listeners. He was the one to notice them first, breaking off from his narrative with a look of utter shock. The other two bucks turned to look at the cause of his alarm, the grey buck letting out a yelp that might have been meant to be, "What?"

Gordon had just enough time to recover from his surprise and draw his sword before Percy was on top of him. Holding on to Weezie for support, he clashed swords with the grey buck until he succeeded in disarming the soldier. In one quick motion the sword clattered out of his hand and its wielder to the floor, clutching the gash in his arm. Percy hardly stopped, rolling off Weezie to connect his powerful back feet with Rall's head as he rushed towards them. The brown buck crumpled from the blow as Percy landed painfully beside him. 

Rimby stood stunned on the first few steps of the stairs.

"You are not-" he spluttered, reaching for his sword. "You are not coming through." He held out the blade in front of him, not exactly a clean sword, and added almost in a whisper, "You're supposed to be dead."

Percy grimaced, pushing himself to his knees. "You're going to have to try a little harder than that," he said, attempting to smirk through the pain.

"Very well then, I'll take off your head, you loathsome traitor." Rimby said, his eyes flashing as he stepped off the stairs and towards the orange buck. 

"No!" Weezie screamed, throwing herself at him in a fury. Rimby sidestepped her lunge, a look of disgust on his face. She recovered quickly and whirled around, attempting to kick him in the shins. It didn't matter if it hit, she just needed to buy Percy some time to get to his feet. With a repulsed grunt he whirled around, dodging her blow and landing a solid punch to the side of her face with his off hand. Weezie crashed to the floor, holding her face as it throbbed with hot white pain.

"Ugh, you must be Airen's girl," he said, scrunching up his face like he smelled something bad.

"Should I grab her, sir?" Gordon, the gray buck asked, holding his wounded arm tightly to his chest. 

"Don't be ridiculous, you're useless. I'll handle these two myself."

Weezie remained huddled on the ground. Her face still hurt, but maybe she could bluff it hurting more so he would forget about her. He was barely putting any weight on the bandaged leg and Weezie was pretty sure if she could just strike him there he would go down and buy her and Percy enough time to get away.

Percy had made it to his feet, swaying slightly where he stood but clutching his stolen sword tightly as he faced the approaching swordsman.

"You disgust me," Rimby said, taking an awkward step with his bad leg.

"Everyone disgusts you. I'm nothing special," Percy replied. His gaze flicked to Weezie and back again, but it was enough to reveal he was worried about her.

"What is even wrong with you." Rimby shook his head, keeping his eyes on the orange buck.

"Wrong with me? How many innocent lives have been taken at the end of your blade,  _ Rimby. _ You side with traitors and liars and assist to enslave your own people and you ask what's wrong with  _ me? _ "

"You were one of us," Rimby said softly, with a dangerous edge to his voice. "That makes you the traitor then really," With that he went at him, Percy barely blocking the powerful blow and nearly falling over again.

"I will take you down," Rimby said, slashing repeated and pressing him back into the wall, "Then I will kill that doe and you can watch it. And then! I will take  _ off  _ your miserable head!" There was no time for Percy to dodge the kick that struck him in the chest and sent him into the wall. Weezie saw her chance and sprung at him, kicking his leg just as he attempted to bring his sword around. It caught on Percy's blade, both swords clattering to the floor as Rimby crumpled under his bad leg. Weezie rolled out of his reach and up to her hands and knees, watching in anxious suspension as the two bucks lunged for their swords. Percy landed heavily on his belly, scrambling to grab the handle and just barely managing to roll around and block Rimby's heavy overhead strike. Weezie shot a glance to Gordon, who was still sitting against the wall clutching his arm, eyes wide with alarm. Rimby got to his feet, obviously struggling with his wounded leg. In that unguarded moment, Percy lashed out with his leg, sweeping Rimby off his feet and back onto the ground again, using this as his chance to roll off his back and into a crouch against the wall. Rimby sprang up again, now furious.

"Will you just  _ die _ already!" He spat, leaping toward him with outstretched blade. Percy parried the blow, knocking it to the side and Rimby with it- he'd put a bit too much force into his strike. One hand on the wall for support, Percy knocked back each blow of Rimby's sword with calm determination chiseled into his face. The more he blocked the more angry and wild Rimby's swings became, until at last he left his front unguarded for a moment too long.

Rimby gasped, falling to the ground at Percy's feet never to rise again. Percy stared down at him with such a look of mixed emotions on his face it was hard to tell what he was thinking.

"He's- he's dead?" Weezie asked, clambering to her feet.

"Yes," Percy panted, looking at his fallen once-companion for a moment longer before seeming to snap out of it. 

"Let's go," he said.

"What about him??" Weezie pointed to Gordon, who grinned nervously.

"Ugh. Get a rope from the room around the corner and tie him to the wall. If you give her any trouble," Percy menacingly gripped his sword handle. Gordon shook his head hurriedly as Weezie scrambled back around the corner.

She made sure it was good and tight, stuck her tongue out at him, then ran back to Percy's side.

" _ Now _ let's go," she said, resuming her position of support.


	3. Freedom

The climb up the stairs was a little difficult, them finally managing it by having Percy slide along the wall on his good shoulder while Weezie pulled him up each step. The door at the top of the stairs needed unlocked, but thankfully there seemed to be no one around in the main guard room. 

"Keep going, it's the door on the far side." Percy said, nodding his head forward. Weezie dragged him across the stone floor and up to the next door which had been left slightly ajar. Weezie peered through to make sure the coast was clear. 

White stone walls reached up to the ceiling, the hall gently lit by multiple lamps set against the wall on engraved holders. On the other side of the room she could see two doors, both open, one with a flight of stairs leading up to it. Weezie frowned as she watched a few housemaids and a manservant rush back and forth carrying various things through the doors. 

"We're never going to catch a break in the traffic," Percy said, leaning his head in beside hers to peek through the door as well, "But as long as there's no one in uniform we should be fine."

"Alright then," Weezie said dubiously, pushing the door open with her shoulder. One doe saw them coming, pressing herself and her empty tray against the wall with a gasp.

"Mind your business," Percy growled to her. The maid blanched and nodded, running back through the door she had come through and ushering the other servants out of the room with quick whispers. 

"Do you- would you like some help, sir?" A pale buck at the top of the stairs asked, eyes wide with concern.

"No," Percy coughed. "You'd better stay out of this." The buck's frown deepened and he took a few steps backwards to clear room for them to come through the door.

"I- I understand, sir." He said, watching them struggle up the stairs. 

"Actually, Gyve," Percy said when they reached the top.

"Yes, sir?" Gyve said earnestly, meeting Percy's intent gaze.

"If you could find Whit," he paused and the buck gave a determined nod. "We'll be in the library," Percy finished. Gyve nodded again and was off in a flash, speeding up a flight of stairs around the corner startling a housemaid who was coming down.

"Which way to the library?" Weezie asked nervously, looking around the vast room they now stood on the edge of. Percy groaned, drooping his head back to her shoulder. 

"It's just, across the hall from here by that window." He said, gesturing vaguely with his sword tip. Weezie squinted across the room, not sure exactly where he meant but guessing it was probably the opening on the opposite end of the hall. She readjusted her grip on the practically limp Percy and stepped out of the cover of the doorway. 

There were multiple windows lining the walls, light streaming in through the clear glass panes edged in alternating green and red squares that cast their colorful patterns on the smooth marble floor. Weezie shuffled as quickly as she could manage across the wide open space in front of two arched openings, showing beyond them a carpeted hall she thought might lead to the front doors. A wide staircase swept off to the side, spiraling up and up to a second floor balcony and then disappearing into the far away ceiling. She had never seen the inside of King Jupiter's palace before, and she had also never felt so  _ small. _

There were a few armed guards meandering around the front hall, but they took no notice of the two escapees to Weezie's infinite relief. They made it across the room at last and slipped into a white marble hallway. The window to the side was made mostly of yellow glass, casting the wall with its cozy light. Weezie leaned up against it to catch her breath. While she knew they were far from safe, there was something about how the dust particles danced in the golden light that calmed her nerves, almost as if reminding her the whole world hadn't been consumed by this terror she was experiencing. Somewhere out there the light still shone and the grass was still green. 

Percy sank further down Weezie's side, now hardly standing on his own feet at all.

"Hang on," Weezie said, bouncing him higher to her shoulder and grabbing his belt for extra support. Down the hallway they went, passing a flight of stairs going down on their right and a few more tall golden windows before stepping into the castle library. 

It wasn't quite as large a room as the Great Hall she had marveled at moments ago, but it still boasted a tremendous size. Massive shelves full of books soared up over her head, graceful balconies interrupting their climb for easier rabbit access. A thick, richly colored rug covered the dark wood floor, tall clear windows filling every space on the wall that wasn't holding books. Armchairs sat here and there in cozy nooks and a few potted plants of various sizes and kinds were scattered about. 

Weezie peered around the room for a safe place to set Percy down, trying to not get distracted by her surroundings. Turning a corner around a shelf full of old books, she found what she was looking for. An oversized chair was nestled into a corner of the library beside a marble fireplace, bookshelves forming walls on all sides. She eased him down into the chair, where he laid the side of his head against the back with a weary moan. Weezie patted his shoulder, stretched her tired arms, then looked out at the rest of the library nervously. 

"So, um, Percy," she said, turning back to their little corner. He grunted in response, looking at her through eyes half open. 

"Do you have a plan for what we're gonna do next, or? Also who's Whit?" 

Percy sighed and rolled his head over the back of the chair to face her with a wince.

"You can't go home Weezie, I'm sorry. That will be the first place Daggler will look for you once he discovers you're missing." 

Weezie swallowed hard, leaning against the bookshelf as a sickening twist formed in her belly. She knew he was right, she just didn't want to accept it. 

"He will be far more merciful to your family if he goes to look for you and doesn't find you there." 

Weezie nodded, biting down on her trembling lip. She was alive, basically free even, but she would never be able to see her mother and sister again. For their own safety. She began to wonder if her escape would end up costing them their lives.

"So- what am I going to do?" Weezie asked, blinking back tears. "Where can we go where he won't find us?" 

"There isn't anywhere here in First Warren, not that I know of anyway," Percy said, closing his eyes with a wave of pain. "But I have an idea that Whit should be able to help us with."

"Yes?"

"There are only two ways anyone leaves First Warren. Either you die- which is probably how I'll be getting out," he interjected with a grimace. "Or you get relocated by government mandate. Now, getting you reassigned to a position of authority elsewhere is out of the question, but, there is a slave shipment due to head out this evening to the mining camps past Red Lake." 

"Red Lake?" Weezie asked, walking from the doorway to the chair Percy was sprawled in. "Where's that?"

"Hh, it's up north- maybe a two or three day trip from here?" Percy said, gesturing limply with his off hand, the other still clutching tightly his stolen sword. 

"We might be able to get you on that cart though, that'll take you somewhere out of Daggler's reach. You'll still be a slave of course…" 

Percy trailed off, hand pressed to his brow as though it might help him think better through the pain. Weezie sniffed into the silence, using her sleeve to wipe the tears out of her eyes. 

" _ Percy _ ," a buck's voice said from behind Weezie. Percy peeled open one eye as Weezie whirled around in alarm. A tall white buck with black splashes across his fur stood in the doorway, clutching the doorframe with one hand and a look of pure horror written across his face. 

"What are you- how did this happen?" He said, stumbling towards them. Percy blinked his one open eye sleepily around his hand.

"Are you Whit?" Weezie demanded, placing herself between him and Percy. If he said no, she was prepared to take a fist to his handsome face.

"Yes," Whit's eyes flashed momentarily from the orange buck and then to Weezie, obviously considering sidestepping her. Weezie pursed her lips and stepped aside for him, watching him closely as he slid up beside Percy’s chair.

"I need your help, Whit," Percy said without shifting his position at all.

" _ Yes _ ?" Whit said, eyebrows arched high, looking him over with clear alarm. "What happened, are you alright?"

"Ugh, I don't have a lot of time, I need you to do something for me." Percy said, struggling to sit himself upright. 

"No, Percy no. You're wounded. I'm going to take you to the hospital." Whit reached out to lift him from the chair, but Percy's free hand darted out to grab his wrist. 

"It's too late, Whit. I'm a dead buck now, but I want to make sure this doe will be safe from Daggler."    
Whit looked from Percy's clenched hand to his face, concern edging every line of it.    
“Percy-” he began.    
Percy gingerly shook his head. “I need you to make up some paperwork for me. Sign her on to the slave cart that’s leaving later today. If she stays here he'll eventually find her and-” he stopped mid sentence, pausing to breathe and take a heavy swallow, dropping his head to the chair back again. After a pause his head rolled over and he looked the white buck in the eyes. They stared at each other for a moment, Weezie wondering what unspoken words were being passed between the two of them. 

“You’re not going to die,” Whit eventually whispered, squeezing the other buck’s hand. "You can't stay here anymore either, I'm going to sign you both onto the slave cart." He stood, looking down at Weezie then up into the space above her head, brown eyes flitting back and forth obviously lost in thought. Percy looked up at him mournfully with a deep sigh. He squinted out the window where green leaves waved against the clear glass, then widened his eyes in realization. 

“Oh no, you’re right! That’s perfect.” he said, looking back to the two of them. Whit frowned and Weezie crossed her arms.

"I don't really see how sending  _ both  _ of us miles away to one of Morbin's slave mines can be considered perfect," she said, wrinkling her nose.

Whit, looking down to the doe as she spoke suddenly seemed to actually notice her. 

"Are you alright? Your dress is covered in blood," he said, taking a slight step backwards.

"Oh no..." Weezie said, looking down at her lovely blue dress. "Yes, I'm fine it's, not actually mine." 

"Sorry." Percy muttered with an attempt at a smile.

Whit looked between the two of them. 

"Anyway, Whit if you can get that paperwork," Percy said, interrupting before Whit could ask any more questions. 

"No, wait. What is the plan," Weezie caught Whit on his way past her out the door. 

"When we get outside the walls, far enough from the Black Gap the sentinels won't see us, if I can take out the guards, every rabbit on that cart will be free." Percy replied. Whit frowned. 

"They can head into the Great Wood and find whatever resistance is left out there. Weezie, you could be free," he said. Weezie took a deep breath and let it out. 

"It's worth a try I guess."

Whit got the paperwork put together at a surprising speed. 

"This is the farthest I can take you; I'm sorry I can't help you get to the cart, that would draw too much suspicion. But here, Weezie, take these with you just in case anyone tries to stop you.” He said this casting an uneasy glance to Percy who was dozing on Weezie’s shoulder. Whit had multiple times tried to convince him to see a medic, but every time he had cut him off. There was simply no time.

“Besides, it’s likely most of the people we are avoiding will be at the hospital,” he pointed out, earning a grim smile from the white buck.

Whit had assisted them to a quiet servant’s hallway down the stairs they had limped past earlier and through what looked like a kitchen storage room. Up the next flight of stairs, Whit had said, would be their destination. The goal was to sneak past the guards altogether and get into the cart without anyone noticing and possibly recognizing Percy. For this reason also Whit had taken his uniform jacket. Just in case they were caught, Weezie had been outfitted with the proper paperwork to have the two of them sent north. 

They were now ready to go, having resumed their previous position, Percy’s arm drawn over Weezie’s shoulder with her hand behind his back lifting up on his belt.

After the plan was thoroughly explained to Weezie, Whit kneeled down in front of her, looking her earnestly in the eyes.

“Please,” he said, brows pulled tightly together. “Take care of him?” 

Weezie nodded seriously. “With my life.” 

Percy grunted his disapproval but Weezie continued. “I’ve lost my family, my farm, everything really. Percy’s all I’ve got now so…” She trailed off, looking down to the ground. 

Whit placed a firm hand on her shoulder. “Thank you.”

He straightened up, touching his ears, eyes and mouth. 

“May the leapers light your path.”

“And your feet find the next standing stone.” Weezie replied after him, tears starting in her eyes. 

“Thank you, Whit. Maybe- I hope we can meet again someday.”

Whit nodded. “Perhaps.”

“In the Mended Wood.” Percy mumbled, eyes closed. 

“In the Mended Wood.” Weezie repeated with a sad smile. “I like the sound of that.”

The afternoon sun was high and hot, reflecting bright off the palace's white marble walls, imbuing the gravel underfoot with its heat. The canvas topped carts were parked all in a line, heavy cords of rope tied to the head of each one. Standing alert and milling about were several soldier looking rabbits in spiffy uniforms, strutting self importantly through the groups of slaves prepared for shipment. Weezie had grown up in this world, she had told herself time and time again that this was normal, but she still had to swallow down the sickening feeling in her belly from such a sight. 

“Okay,” she said quietly, mostly to herself as she wasn’t sure if Percy was even awake anymore. “All we need is to wait for an opening and we’ll slip into one of those groups.” She gave a short determined nod and readjusted her grip on Percy's wrist. 

They were crouched hidden behind a low stone wall that edged the stairs she had come up after bidding Whit farewell. The cobblestone courtyard spread out from there, well trimmed shrubbery growing along the tall stone wall separating the palace grounds from the rest of City Square. The sturdy wooden gates had been pulled open, ready for the cartloads of rabbits to rumble through. She knew there was limited time for them to get in there, it looked like the only thing they were waiting on before leaving was sorting out which bucks were going to pull the carts and which ones would ride, but she patiently waited for her opening, face drawn to a determined glower.

She became distracted from her close watch of activity when a wailing broke out on the other end of the courtyard. A white furred doe was trying to push through the harsh guards, reaching her arms past them calling out, "Godfrey, Godfrey!” repeatedly. One very distressed young buck, his hands bound together stepped forward from his group, pleading with her at the top of his lungs to go back and for the guards not to hurt her. Weezie hated to look away, but she needed to use this as her chance to get through while everyone else would be looking the other way.

“Alright, hang on,” She said into Percy’s ear. She scurried as quickly as she could with her burden, darting into the nearest crowd of slaves. She stood anxiously in the middle of the group, hoping no one would question them and wondering if she should wait to be assigned a cart or just try getting Percy into one. Before she could decide the guards started shouting and directing the rabbits around. The group she was standing in was assigned a cart, and together they made their way towards it, climbing in single file. There were guards everywhere, some dressed in the uniform of First Warren's guard, some in a uniform Weezie didn't recognize. She was glad Whit had remembered to take Percy's jacket off- the chances he would be recognized were slimmer. She did her best to appear inconspicuous with the filthy buck draped over her shoulders as the line moved further and their turn drew near.

"Hold on there."

Weezie started and her heart raced in alarm as she looked up at the burly buck roughly grabbing her arm.

"We're not taking rabbits too weak to stand." He said, pointing a stubby finger in Percy's direction. "And that buck there ain't standing." He was dressed in the unfamiliar uniform, his fur an ashy grey with splashes of black. 

"You have to take him," Weezie said, surprising herself by her boldness. "I have a document here specifically saying he is to ride these carts to the northern camps."

The buck's nose wrinkled in disapproval. He looked up over Weezie's head to the First Warren guard standing behind her who was now wearing a huge smirk.

"Well let's see it then," he growled. Weezie reached into Percy's pocket, pulling the folded piece of paper out and handing it to the officer. She kept her face a cool confident mask hoping he wouldn't notice her trembling hand and call her out on her bluff. With a sidelong glare at the smirking guard, he unfolded the paper and read it, glancing up to Weezie and Percy a few times throughout. He grumbled something incoherent and shoved it back into Weezie's chest.

"You'd better hold on to that," he said menacingly, then stalked away. 

Weezie felt a little lightheaded from relief, and couldn't help releasing a sigh as she turned back to the cart entrance. She and Percy were the only ones left to load now on that particular cart. 

The guard just stood there watching her struggle with the huge step, still smirking. Weezie puffed as she tried, she  _ tried, _ to get Percy up into the wagon, but despite how sturdy and strong she was, she'd met her match at actually lifting him over the edge. The anxious rabbits inside just watched, wide eyed.

_ Would no one help? _ Weezie thought in disbelief.  _ Are they all really that scared? _

Finally one buck edged forward, casting a nervous glance to the guard who stood smirking.

"Here," he said, holding out his arms. "You lift under the legs and I'll get his shoulders."

" _ Thank _ you," Weezie said, looking to him in gratitude.

Between the two of them they easily managed getting him into the cart, the tightly packed rabbits squishing a path for them as they carried him over to a seat in the corner. Weezie thanked the buck again who nodded and bounced back to his seat. She squeezed in next to Percy, letting him lean limply against her, her shoulder as a pillow and her arm around his waist to prevent him falling forward. She was finally able to get a good look at him and was relieved he was still breathing. She patted his shoulder and settled back into her seat.

"What happened?" A nearby doe asked in fearful awe.

"I don't really know, " Weezie admitted. "I think he must have done something to cross the guards but I don't really know what that would have been. I only just met him an hour or so ago."

It struck Weezie as the doe nodded and looked away; it hadn't really been that long since she was hopeless and trapped in a cell, digging at the walls awaiting her death. Now here she sat, on a cart rumbling away to the outer world- the world outside First Warren and everything she'd ever known. 

Moving aside part of the canvas to form a sort of window, Weezie watched the buck-drawn carts as they began pulling out through the gate and into City Square.

Tears stung the corners of her eyes as she tried to hold them in, this was her world, her home. Her mother. Her sister. Her farm. She knew that she would never see any of them again. She held Percy close as their cart began to move with a jerk, shouts of the guards ringing through the air. Hot tears rolled down her cheeks while Percy slept fitfully at her side. 

Despite the pain she felt in her heart, there was a seed of hoping growing there. A hope that maybe, soon, she would be free.


	4. Delia

"Wake me when we pass the Black Gap," Percy had said. Weezie had no idea where they were now, but that desolate place was far behind them and she still could not wake him up. They had been traveling for nearly an hour now, along a wide, dusty road cut out of the surrounding woods. To the sides and up the hill, thick underbrush clambered around the trunks of trees marching on solemnly as far as the eye could see- which wasn't too far due to the density of the forest. Weezie's head was laid against the wooden frame of the wagon that was holding the canvas up, the other hand absently fiddling with a tear in the sleeve of Percy's shirt. Somewhere in the cart someone was softly crying while the murmur of voices rose and fell with the rabbit's hushed conversations.   
She had tried waking him several times, gently shaking him by the shoulders and speaking into his ear. She didn't want to get too loud or obvious and alert any guards, but she had a growing fear in the back of her mind as her efforts proved futile that he never would wake up. She glanced back down again as the cart wheel hit a rock, causing the wagon to jerk and Percy to jostle against Weezie's side. His face looked troubled, even in his sleep; dried blood matted into the orange of his fur. Maybe he needs something first before he can wake up, Weezie thought with a frown. He still hadn't seen any kind of doctor yet, but she had done her best to look him over, pretty sure the bleeding had finally stopped. If only I knew what to do, Weezie whimpered softly, patting the top of his head. There was this one spot of fur on his forehead- she had noticed- that was a little lighter than the rusty orange surrounding it that always stood up on end, the fur growing in the opposite direction from the rest. No matter how many times she smoothed it down it always just sprang up again.   
She thought over again the interesting events of their escape, wondering who in the world he was beyond just a name, why his fellow officers had turned on him, who Whit was and why he had helped them. With a frown she silenced the questions in her mind. She needed to focus on the here and now, not on the what-ifs of the past. Percy needed help, from someone who knew what to do.   
"Is anyone here a doctor?" Weezie called to the rest of the wagon. "Please, my friend is sick and I don't know what to do."   
She looked around at the faces turned to her hopefully. Please, someone come help us,  
One timid doe stood up from the crowd, grey-brown with white spots and one blue eye, the other dark- almost black brown. She tried to keep her balance in the swaying cart, raising her soft voice over the rumble.  
"I- I'm not a doctor, but I do have basic medical training," she offered, tentatively raising her hand.   
"Thank you," Weezie replied, reaching out towards her and grasping her hand as soon as she was close enough.   
"Delia," the doe said, lightly shaking Weezie's hand. Weezie nodded.  
"Weezie, and, this is Percy," she said as the doe knelt down in front of them. "He's pretty beat up everywhere, but I'm mostly worried about the back of his head."  
She helped Delia turn him over to where she could see and examine the wound with her gentle white fingers. Parting the matted fur, the doe gave a sharp intake of breath. A sympathetic groan followed as she peered closer.   
"And he's still breathing…" she muttered under her breath. "Do you know how long ago this happened?" She asked, looking up again to Weezie.   
"I- no," Weezie shook her head. "Maybe two hours ago?"  
Delia bit her bottom lip. She looked back down again to Percy, taking another gentle look at his head.  
"I'm terribly sorry, Weezie, but- I don't think he's going to make it." Delia said. "I honestly don't know how he's made it this long," she admitted looking back down at him.   
"He's had a lot of blood loss, and very likely taken massive brain damage whatever caused this. I'm so sorry, but it's unlikely he'll ever wake up again."   
Her last words hit like a blow to Weezie's heart- her worst fear proved true.   
"Never?" She whispered, blinking back tears.   
Delia nodded, taking Weezie's hand gently in her own. "I'm sorry," she said again. "But maybe it's best this way. Your friend is free now, isn't he? Wherever it is they're taking us to, his last moments will be here with you. Few rabbits have such a happy death these days."  
Weezie hardly heard any of what the thin doe said to her as she struggled with the shock. It felt like the world was crashing around her, drawing her down into the whirlpool of its landslide. The plan. They were going to break free- join the resistance in the outer wood. That was what she had been using to fight the despair of all that she had lost and now it felt like it was swallowing her whole.   
But Percy. She still had Percy. He wasn't dead yet, it wasn't too late. She hadn't lost everything quite yet.  
"Thank you," she whispered to the concerned doe. Delia nodded and patted her hand.   
"Don't worry dear. The world will keep on spinning and you'll find something to live for, don't give up yet."  
Weezie blinked. She could feel her fire returning into the shocked cold of her heart and she clung to that little spark of hope.  
"Wait," she said, grabbing the doe's hand as she turned to go. "Help me bandage him at least? I'm not ready to give up on him."  
Delia turned, giving Weezie a sympathetic smile. She looked like she might say something more about 'letting go', but Weezie refused to give in- even if that meant denying the inevitable reality and hoping for something that could never be.   
"Please," she said, squeezing Delia's hand in her own. Delia thought for a moment, then nodded.   
"Alright then," she said, rubbing her arm and looking around the cart. "But we have nothing to bandage him with."  
"Excuse me!" Weezie shouted out to the rest of the cart. "My friend is injured and needs bandages! If everyone could just tear off a strip from their dress or shirt, we'd have enough to save him. Please!"  
The rabbits looked around the cart to each other, unsure of what to do. Have they lost the ability to think for themselves? Weezie wondered, waiting for an answer from the hollow-eyed slaves. Maybe they just need a leader.  
"You there in the back- with the white splotch on your nose-" the startled rabbit pointed to herself uncertainly. Weezie nodded and continued, gesturing the directions with her free hand. "If you would kindly start the line, pass your strip to the rabbit next to you and so on to the next rabbit until they reach Delia here." They still cast uncertain glances around to each other, the white splotched rabbit looking down at her skirt in confusion.   
"I know what you're probably thinking," Weezie said, fighting down the whisper of hopelessness. "Why should you help? If you stay out of it you won't possibly get in trouble. But I want you to think. What would you want the rabbits in this cart to do if you were the one needing bandaged?"   
Most of the rabbits frowned, thinking over the answer to Weezie's challenge.   
"We're all rabbits," Weezie whispered, just loud enough to be heard over the sound of the wagons. "And we're all in this together. No one's in this alone."   
The brown buck who had helped her earlier stood, and tore a strip off the bottom of his shirt. Not saying a word and not taking his eyes off Weezie. He handed it to the rabbit sitting next to him, then sat down again. After a moment of tense hesitation, one by one all the rabbits followed suit, tearing strips from their clothing and passing it down the line. Delia turned to look at Weezie, her mouth open in disbelief. Weezie smiled, and tore a strip off the hem of her dress. 

The carts rumbled on and on for miles. They had only stopped once, when they switched out who was pulling the cart for fresh bucks, but this stop was for the night. The guards stood around, holding torches over their heads and glowers on their faces, watching the slaves climb out of their carts. The moon could barely be seen peeking down between the branches of the trees all around and above.  
Weezie hated to leave Percy behind, but she figured it would be better for him to not be moved, especially out into the nighttime chill. She was becoming increasingly worried for him the longer he went without waking up. She stretched her aching body with her arms up over her head and took a look around.  
They had stopped in a clearing made from the crossing of several roads. The one they had come down ended here, while another road took up where it left off, stretching as far as she could see to the right and to the left. Weezie wondered which path they would be taking when morning came.  
The slaves stood around in shivering huddles, watching the soldiers as they made fires and joked amongst themselves. She frowned, getting as close as she could to eavesdrop on their conversation without being conspicuous.  
"Well yeah, but this is going to the last load we pick up," a dark brown buck was saying, poking at the fire he was building with his unsheathed sword. Another buck- slate blue with white around his muzzle- chuckled.  
"That's true," he said, shifting his weight with crossed arms. "Although I thought the last load was going to be the last, but here we are."  
"Overseer Morten wasn't very happy," a light brown officer who was younger than the rest said.  
"Did he say why?" The brown buck asked, nudging him with his elbow.  
"Of course not," came the response and all the guards nearby burst out laughing. The two bucks who'd made the exchange grinned as though they'd made a great joke as their fellows patted them on the shoulders, several walking away to their posts laughing and shaking their heads.   
"Hopefully we won't have any trouble with the locals," an ashy grey buck said, squinting into the forest. Weezie recognized him as the one who had stopped her earlier. "I don't fancy getting into a fight with that useless lot around needing protected." he gestured with his head in Weezie and the other slave's direction. In turning his head he noticed the one doe standing apart from the rest.  
"Hey you!" He shouted, turning around and pointing at her. Weezie felt a jolt of alarm but kept herself as outwardly calm as possible.  
Don't let them know you are afraid, her mother had always told her, and Weezie had nothing to lose. She calmly held her ground as the buck marked up to her menacingly.  
"What do you think you're doing?"  
"My friend is sick," Weezie said with all the confidence she could muster. "He needs water."  
"You're that doe with the dead body," he said, wrinkling his nose.  
"He's not dead," Weezie flashed back. He might be now- Delia had said he could slip away at any time now- but she refused to accept this truth.  
"What's all this?" A large white buck asked, walking up from the other side of the camp. Weezie wondered briefly where he was from, he had an unfamiliar accent to his speech.  
"This is the girl that brought that dead buck and his shipment paperwork." He replied, putting emphasis on the word "dead" and giving her a pointed look. Weezie bit her tongue.  
"Why are we being delivered a, 'dead' buck, Silas?" The white furred officer asked wearily.  
"I don't know, sir."  
The white rabbit turned his dark eyes to Weezie. "Explain?"  
"Please, sir, he's not dead." Weezie said, meeting his gaze levely. "He's only been roughed up and he just needs water so I can wash his wounds. I don't know what happened, I was just told to bring him to the carts and no one else would take him."  
The white buck studied her face. What she had said was mostly true, she just hoped he wouldn't press her any further.  
"Hm," he said, after staring at her for an uncomfortably long time. "Officer Kipley will accompany you to a stream to get water for your friend." He squinted his eyes at her then shouted for Kipley. The young officer ran up and to attention, giving a quick glance to the doe with blood smeared into her dress.  
"Yes, sir?"  
"The slaves need water. This doe will accompany you for the first load and will be given as much as she asks for. Then you will find someone else to give water first to the bucks who pulled the carts and then the rest of the slaves."  
"Yes, sir."  
"Keep your eyes peeled for wolves and signal if you run into trouble. There should be a stream north from here."  
Kipley nodded and saluted his superior.  
"Come along," he said to Weezie and began walking briskly to the empty carts.   
"Thank you," Weezie said to the white rabbit as she turned to follow. He nodded his response.

After the two had stopped at the carts for buckets they had plunged into the forest, Weezie walking ahead tripping on roots and rocks in the dark, and Kipley following behind with a torch held over his head and one hand on his sword hilt. Eventually they found a stream as the officer had predicted. It ran along in its own little valley carved through the trees, twinkling in the patches of moonlight that made it past the leaves.  
Weezie clambered awkwardly down the hillside with a bucket in each hand while Kipley stood erect, listening with his ears and sniffing the air for trouble. Weezie was a little confused why they were worried about wolves, weren't the bad guys all on the same side?  
She reached the creek bed, stepping into the cold water and feeling the sharp pebbles beneath her feet. She got herself a drink first- she realized the last she had eaten or drunk that day had been breakfast with her mother and sister.  
She thought of them as she dipped the buckets beneath the surface, lifting them out full of moonlight-kissed water. They would be sitting in the family room now- the lamps lit all cozy- mother at her knitting and Layra her sewing. She hoped they were- that they would be able to move on and live without her.  
"Hurry up now," Kipley's voice came as a harsh whisper. Weezie rolled her eyes, knowing he wouldn't be able to see them in the dark and started up the hill. She had carried buckets of water before all over her farm, and was a little smug at the officer's surprise at her ease. 

Her stomach complained loudly as they made their way back through the dark woods. Kipley walked quickly, now in the front with Weezie trotting behind to keep up. He was muttering under his breath and looking from side to side as he went, jumping over fallen branches and around awkward rocks. Finally he came to a stop in a small clearing caused by a fallen oak. The moon finally found a place to shine down in the absence of the large tree's leaves, casting strange blue shadows on the leaf strewn ground.  
"What is it?" Weezie asked, looking around in confusion. Kipley glared in her direction then around the clearing, holding the torch higher over his head.  
"Well?" Weezie was impatient. She wasn't comfortable with being gone from Percy this long. What if that rude grey buck did something while she was gone?  
"I think we're lost," Kipley said with a frustrated blast through his nose.  
"What?" Weezie asked, trying not to laugh. Had this buck ever gone through the woods before?  
"We're not lost," she said, an amused catch to her voice. "The camp is just up there. Keep going- actually just follow me."  
She stomped on past him, not sure if she was more irritated or more amused by his ineptitude. Kipley spluttered something incoherent, but ended up following along behind her.  
"You're going to get us more lost," he said angrily.  
"More lost? How does somebody get more lost?" Weezie said over her shoulder. "You're either lost or you're not. There is no more lost, so if you're lost at least let me try to get us unlost before we, what- sit down and hope someone will come and find us?"  
"That is no way for you to speak to me, slave," Kipley said angrily.  
Weezie didn't really care. She just gave him a look over her shoulder and continued walking. She didn't have time for this. What was he going to do? Draw his sword on her? He didn't say anything else, but she could sense him stewing on her words as he followed behind her.

They made it to the camp with no further incident. While Weezie had never been in this particular area, the Great Wood was her home, and she had grown up tromping the hills and forests of her family farm. She laughed at the idea of getting lost in the woods.  
Kipley was obviously embarrassed and gave her a dirty look before stalking off to find a new person to carry water for him. Weezie lugged her water buckets to the entrance of the cart, setting them down and scrambling up into the cart check on her friend. She half expected to see him sprawled on the floor, last shred of life ended by the grey buck, Officer Silas' sword. But to her relief he was exactly as she had left him, wedged into the corner fast asleep.  
"Good, I'm glad you're okay, " she whispered, patting his shoulder. "I'll be right back, I'm going to go find Delia."

Together the two does washed and re-wrapped his wounds. Percy slept soundly throughout it all, with absolutely no reaction to the cold water as they rubbed the dirt and blood from his fur.   
Delia told Weezie of the life she had left behind. Of her father and younger sisters. How she had begged to be taken instead of her older brother, and how the administration had finally accepted. Of the work she had been doing at the hospital to become a nurse, and her sadness her training would never be completed. Weezie listened sympathetically, offering a few words of encouragement here and there, but mostly just listening. She had her own woes weighing heavily on her own heart, but with Delia so broken and pouring herself out to Weezie, she didn't feel it appropriate to burden her with her own problems. Delia had enough to worry about, Weezie could bear her's on her own. 

After they had resettled Percy in the cart, they made their way together to their group's campfire. The moon had risen high in the sky, beginning now its descent to the other side of the horizon. The shadows under the trees seemed dark and menacing, like the firelight was all that was holding back the terrors of the night. Weezie was glad to step into its inviting light.  
The rabbits were huddled together in little groups around the fire, warming their hands and watching the dancing flames despondently. Delia crouched down on the ground, accepting from one of the rabbits a piece of bread that she handed up to Weezie.   
"We saved your portion for you," she said with her soft smile.   
"Thank you," Weezie replied, truly grateful. Her stomach rumbled again in anticipation of the coming food. Everyone watched as she sat down among them and began eating, varying expressions on their hollow faces. Some had smiles, some held looks of tentative hope, while some seemed to relax a little their fears. Weezie didn't really like it- having so many eyes on her. That had always been Layra's job. Bossy Layra who didn't mind the attention. Weezie preferred working in the background supporting the people in charge, but these poor rabbits needed a leader, and she grimly accepted the responsibility.  
They all seemed to be far more at ease with Weezie among them, doing her best to stay cheerful and laugh and joke. Mother and Layra were now far away, but she wasn't about to abandon her calling- to brighten and cheer the lives around her. A few rabbits from other campfires even edged their way in, tentatively welcomed to the circle of light and laughter by the other slaves.   
Weezie could see in the corners of darkness outside the firelight guards standing as sentinel over the camp.   
"Do you think they really meant it?" A doe asked, breaking her out of her thoughts. Weezie turned to face her. "What?"   
"Do you think they really meant it- about the wolves," she earnestly repeated.   
"I don't know, what did they say about the wolves?" Weezie asked. She was tired from the longest day of her life, and really just wanted to curl up and fall asleep. The firelight reflected off the does wide, frightened eyes, while other rabbits turned their ears to the conversation.   
"They said the woods are full of hungry wolves. That they might jump out and attack us if we got too far away from the campfires."   
"Well then don't leave the campfires," Weezie said, getting to her feet. She wanted to go to sleep, but not here with all these rabbits who were watching her every move.  
"I'm sure you'll be fine. Why would Morbin's wolves want to eat his slaves anyway?"  
"If we follow the rules, we'll all be fine," one buck said, nodding his head. The other rabbits nodded their agreement.   
Weezie turned to go. She had thought briefly about sleeping at a different campfire, but had quickly remembered Percy alone in the dark and decided she would sleep in the cart, just in case he woke up and was confused. The rabbits watched her in awe as she stepped out of the circle of light and began making her way to the wagon. 

"Where do you think you're going?" It was Silas. He had detached himself from the shadows among the carts and planted himself firmly in front of her.  
"I'm going to sleep in my assigned cart," she said, recovering quickly.   
"You're going to sleep with the other slaves," he replied.   
"Why?" Weezie was mad. She knew deep down it was wrong to challenge her superior like this. To lash out at the circumstance by lashing out at him, but she was tired and at the end of her rope, and it felt good to stoke the flame and release some of her frustration by rebelling.   
"Because I said so," Silas said, taking a menacing step forward. "And I doubt you have a permit signed by the Governor's secretary to get you out of this one."  
The what? Weezie was taken back for a moment. How did Whit get the signature of the Governor's secretary?   
She had lost her moment for a whitty comeback, so she glowered up at him instead. This was the last straw, and she wasn't about to hand it over just yet.   
"There is absolutely no reason why I shouldn't be allowed to sleep in the cart." Weezie said, balling her fists and trying to keep her tone even. "There is an injured buck in there that needs cared for, and if I'm stuck by the fire I won't be able to do that. I doubt you are volunteering to take over my responsibility, Officer?" She glared up at him without lifting her head.  
"I don't need to give you my reasons." His hand darted out, grabbing her tightly by the upper arm.  
"Get back to the other slaves, now."   
He roughly shoved her in the direction of the fire. "And if I catch you sneaking around again…" he let the sentence hang in the air unfinished.   
Weezie almost obeyed. She almost walked away from the guard and back to the anxious, fearful rabbits. Almost. But the spark of hope had turned into a blaze of rebellion, and it wasn't going to be extinguished that easily.   
"What, do you think I'm going to try and run away?" Weezie said, whirling around.   
"I'm not going to go anywhere, I'm just trying to take care of him!"  
"Your boyfriend is going to be fine through the night, but you-"  
"He is not my boyfriend!" She shouted, interrupting him mid-sentence. If anything he felt more like a younger brother- a weak helpless buck that needed looked after. Nevermind she had watched him best three of Daggler's men in combat while mortally wounded, he needed her help now. She owed him that much for saving her life, and she needed something to cling to that would give that life purpose.   
Silas growled, his patience about to snap.   
"There's only one way I'm allowing you to join him," he said, drawing his sword. The firelight from the scattered campfires reflected off the steel blade as he leveled it threateningly in Weezie's direction. "Now get back to the campfire."  
Weezie didn't know what to do. Submission was the last thing she wanted, but the voice in the back of her mind called out insistently to swallow her pride and obey. She slowly lowered her head, keeping her angry eyes on the soldier's face, and turned around. Before she could take more than two steps, something in her peripheral vision caught her eye. A large dark shape was moving noiselessly through the shadowy trees outside the firelight's reach. She drew her breath in with a sharp gasp as a jolt of instinctual fear ran down her spine.   
"Well go on," Silas snarled. Weezie gasped, pointing across the clearing.   
"No, look, there's something over there," Silas followed his gaze along her hand. Looking around, Weezie saw more and more shapes moving through the shadows. They were surrounded. With a growl that caused her fur to stand on end, one of them stepped into the light, fire and moonlight reflecting off its massive teeth and crazed eyes.  
"Wolves!" Silas shouted at the top of his lungs, just as the clearing erupted in the chaos of screams, shouts, and snarling bloodthirsty beasts.


	5. Goodbye

The entire camp was in an uproar. Terrified rabbits were running screaming in all directions trying to dodge the frenzied wolves. The only ones with any means or ability to fight back were the escorting guards who were doing their best to push back the ambush rallied under the leadership of the large white buck. 

Silas had shoved Weezie aside, charging full speed towards the first wolf with his sword out at his side. 

"Pull back to the carts! Pull back to the carts!" He shouted to the terror-stricken slaves. Most of them obeyed, tumbling over each other to escape but quickly running into more wolves, while others stayed where they were, petrified by fear. One of the charging wolves ran directly through a campfire in its frenzy, catching itself on fire and then the trees it ran through in its howling flight. 

Silas' wolf faced him fearlessly with a deep snarl, rising up on its hind legs and displaying long front claws. The firelight cast sickening shadows on its gruesome scarred face as it lunged towards him with a snap.

Weezie didn't know what to do. The last wolf attack she had been in was when her father was still alive. The image of her parents, with swords in their hands and fury in their eyes standing guard over their front porch had been burned into her young mind. She and Layra had done nothing but watch, huddled together in a corner as their mother and usually mild-mannered father slaughtered wolves at their doorstep. But this was different, she had no parents, and she had no sword, but the wolves and the fire and the screams…

There was nothing she could do against the monstrous beasts, so she followed Silas' last directions and fell back to the carts as quickly as she could. She ran with surprising speed for her stocky legs to where she had left Percy, relieved it looked like she'd be able to make it alright. A wolf stalking on all fours emerged from the shadows behind the cart. Weezie felt a surge of terror as its head snapped to face her. She skidded to a stop in the leaf strewn dirt, fear heightening her reflexes. The wolf let out a low pitched growl as it stepped towards her, head low like a predator ready to pounce. Ready to pounce! Weezie realized at just the right moment that was what it intended to do. With a leap that surprised both the wolf and herself, she sprung up over its snapping head, grazing its side with her feet as she came back down. She was on her feet in a moment, speeding out of the monster's reach. She realized she couldn't run to the cart- not with the wolf hot on her tail. She had no way to protect Percy from its hungry jaws. She ran around behind its tail, causing the wolf to turn a full circle in her pursuit. She was going to lead it away from Percy, and hopefully towards someone with a sword.

Most of the slaves had gathered together in a tight huddle, protected on all sides by the sword-bearing officers. The fire was spreading now through the trees and up the hillside, flames burning across the clearing through the fallen dry leaves. Weezie ran, dodging patches of fire and her pursuer's attacks. She couldn't go towards the other officers, that would certainly mean death with most of the attacking wolves circling and trying to break through their lines. She didn't have time to locate anyone else, so she ran directly towards the place she had last seen Officer Silas. But he wasn't there.

The body of the wolf lay on its side, the flames of the spreading fires licking at its rough hide. Weezie kept on running at full speed- she had nowhere else to run to yet and she didn't dare slow down. Maybe she could lose it in the trees? Rabbits were far more agile than wolves anyway. 

Silas stumbled out of the treeline, breathing heavily with blood showing on his torn shoulder. He looked over the clearing quickly, noticing the wide-eyed grey doe with the wolf close behind. 

"This way!" He shouted, waving his hand to her and assuming a two-handed grip on his sword. Weezie barreled towards him, the wolf snapping at her heels, skidding to a stop behind him. Silas caught the side of the wolf's face with his sword, thrusting the bite aside with a great shout. Before he could recover from his wide swing, the wolf swiped its paw across his side knocking him to the ground. Weezie had to think fast. She had only a moment before the wolf decided which of its prey it would persue first- the doe standing right in front of him or the buck struggling to his feet. 

Weezie dove to Silas' fallen sword, the wolf snapping at the air where her head had just been. 

Weezie took a stance with the sword gripped in both hands. A quick glance behind told her Silas had been gashed across the side by the strike and was struggling to maintain consciousness. He wouldn't be getting up to fight anytime soon. At least, not soon enough. The wolf was angry now, an empty gnawing in its belly pushing its primal desire to feed and a painful gash through the right side of its face. 

For a moment Weezie wished Percy were here. That wolf would stand no chance against her friend, wounded or not. But he wasn't. It was just her, the wolf, and the wounded Officer's sword. 

She wasn't sure if she was strong enough to block the wolf's attack, and remembered how poorly that had gone for Silas who had obviously used a sword before, so she decided she would strike first. 

She lunged for the wolf, screaming at the top of her lungs. She would have missed, snapped in two by the crazed wolf's jaws if the white buck had not intervened right when he did. He slammed heavily into it from the side, knocking it to the ground where the two combatants rolled over each other. The white buck ended up on top, the previously wounded wolf being no match. He raised his blade and ended its piteous life.

"Silas," he gasped, rushing up to the grey buck on the ground. Bits of smoldering leaves drifted from his uniform. 

"Uugh, I'm fine," Silas groaned as he rolled him to his back. The white buck gave him a scowl, then resumed looking his friend over.

"Garrett. Garrett," Silas said, patting his arm for attention. "Where's that doe, did he get her?"

"No, she's right there," Garrett, the white buck replied, glancing over his shoulder to Weezie. "We need to get you somewhere safe." 

He hefted the large grey buck to his feet, Weezie watching awkwardly and feeling a little guilty for thinking badly about him. Garrett glanced around the clearing, his nose twitching as he thought out a plan. He had managed to bowl his way through the line of wolves, but there was no way he could get back through with a doe and a wounded soldier. 

"Why, does there have to be so many  _ wolves _ ?" He muttered under his breath. 

Weezie considered rushing back to the cart where she'd left Percy. Her plan had been to get rid of the wolf and get back to him as quickly as possible, but at this point it would feel wrong to leave Silas behind after he had helped her- even with his friend there. 

"Sir," Weezie said, taking a step forward. "We could get him in one of the carts?"

The white buck looked from Weezie, to the crowd of wolves and rabbits, to the carts standing mostly quiet in the dark. 

"If we can get him somewhere the wolves can't easily get to, I think I can stop the bleeding." 

Garrett frowned, glancing from his limp companion to the doe holding his sword.

"Alright," he reluctantly agreed.

They raced across the open space between the treeline and carts, hoping to not attract the attention of any wolves. Whether they did or not, Weezie wasn't really sure, as Garrett commanded her to get into the cart as soon as they reached it. She clambered in and helped him lift Silas after her, who was now out cold. 

Garrett patted his leg. 

"Stay there, lie low." He said, nodding to Weezie. She replied with the same, and he darted off into the dark and chaos.

She couldn't see very well in the dark of the cart, but she crawled first over to Percy, dreading what she might find.

"Please be okay," she whispered, reaching for his hand. It was still warm, and Weezie sighed in relief to find he was still breathing. 

"I gotta go help this guy, but I'll be back." She said, giving his hand a squeeze. 

She scurried back to Officer Silas, dragging him away from the entrance and further into the dark of the cart. She really had no idea what she was doing still, but she had strips of cloth left over from bandaging Percy and determined to make do. 

Once she had done what she could for Silas she grabbed his sword and took up a position at the dark opening to the cart. She still had no idea how to use the blade, and knew she would be dead meat if any wolf actually tried to get past her, but both these bucks had saved her life in some way, and she had promised Whit and herself she would keep Percy safe at all costs. 

She couldn't tell if they were winning or losing out there and she felt a pang of worry for the rabbits from her cart. How many of them had the wolves gotten by now? The horrible baying and yelping still filled the air, along with the shouts and screams of rabbit voices. 

Clutching the sword tightly in her hand, she leaned out the opening, peering out into the dark. The forest fire seemed to have calmed its course, the weather had been a little too wet recently for it to take any strong hold over the greenery of the Great Wood. With the moon set behind the trees, Weezie could only make out vague shapes by the light of the stars and few remaining campfires tossing shadows and highlights around on the breeze. She heard yelps, and howls that made the fur along her spine stand on end and crashing noises in the woods all around. She hoped that was a good sign, but prepared to defend the cart in case any fleeing wolves thought they'd found themselves an easy snack. Her heart pounding in her ears, she was suddenly taken by surprise by a large form appearing from the dark. 

She yelped, falling backwards and waving Silas' sword in its direction. 

"Woah! Watch it!" Garrett said, dodging her swipe. 

"Oh, sorry," Weezie said sheepishly. "I thought you might have been a wolf."

"No," he replied with a slight chuckle. "I'm a little smaller and less ferocious than that. Put that down now would you?"

Weezie obliged and watched as the white rabbit leapt into the cart next to her. 

"Where is he?"

"I dragged him further to the back," Weezie said, standing up to follow him. "Right here," 

Garrett knelt down beside his friend and gave him a quick look over. 

"Are the wolves gone now?" Weezie asked anxiously, glancing out the cart's opening even though she could see nothing in the dark. Her heart was still pounding and she wasn't too happy to have left the sword at the cart entrance, even with Garrett there.

"What? Yes." Garrett said. "Do you know how bad he's off?"

"I'm not actually a doctor," Weezie admitted, sinking down on the bench next to Percy with relief. "I've just had a bit of practice is all." She patted Percy's knee as she spoke.

"This is your not-dead friend then," Garrett asked. 

Weezie nodded. "There's a doe who was on this cart that does have medical training, I could find her to look at Officer Silas, sir?" 

"Yes, do that." He replied, getting to his feet. Weezie nodded and leapt out of the cart. She just hoped she would find Delia still alive.

The camp was an utter disaster. Most of the slaves stood around in shivering groups while the officers and a few bucks moved the bodies of the fallen to the edge of the clearing. She got a few looks from the soldiers as she trotted past, trying to close her mind to the horrible slaughter that had just occurred. 

"Delia?" She called, turning around in a circle. She didn't even know where to start looking, remembering in her mind's eye how her cart group had scattered when the wolves first attacked. She cast a quick glance to the shadows under the trees where the fallen were being lined, but quickly looked away. She would search among the living before assuming she was dead.

She found her where she would hope to find her- tending to the wounded. 

"Delia!" She ran to her, a little surprised by just how relieved she was to see the grey doe she'd only just met. 

"Weezie," Delia gasped, looking up from her work. She looked like she had been crying- actually, she was still crying. Weezie wasn't much of a hugger, but she could tell Delia was in need of one. She held out her arms and the doe fell into them, shaking and sobbing. The buck whose leg she had been wrapping sympathetically patted her back.

"It's alright now," Weezie said, wrapping her arms around her. "The wolves are gone, we're all gonna be safe." 

"They were just everywhere! And I couldn't find you! And they killed so many and I heard you screaming-" Delia broke off, burying her sobs in Weezie's shoulder. Weezie was a little surprised, Delia had been worried about her? Multiple other rabbits she recognized from her cart were looking over with wonder and relief. She was touched. 

"I just had to make sure Percy was safe. Delia, I'm sorry." 

Delia nodded, getting herself back under control. 

"I understand. I just- there are so many wounded from the attack. Would you- would you help me bandage them?"

Weezie nodded, getting to her feet. 

"Of course. But first, Officer Silas has been injured pretty badly. I was sent by Officer Garrett to come and get you to take a look at him, I've already done the best I can do."

Delia nodded, wiping her tears off with one hand and accepting Weezie's with the other as she pulled her to her feet. 

The next few hours went by in a blur. Looking back she could never remember what happened in the space of the rest of that night, only that it had happened. With the wolf attack over and the stress and terror gone with it, all that was left was a ringing emptiness that everyone in the camp seemed to feel. Weezie had never felt so exhausted in her entire life, an exhaustion that left her mind and body feeling like a bowl of overcooked pudding. The last time she had slept had been in her own bed she shared with Layra back home on the farm. She'd hardly eaten that day- just the bread crust for dinner and that far, far away breakfast her mother had made. It did not feel as though all this had happened in one day- her capture, her escape, meeting Whit and smuggling her and Percy onto the carts- it was almost a shock to realize she'd actually only met Percy that morning. It felt like it had been weeks ago Daggler and his band had knocked on their kitchen door.

She, Delia and a few other volunteers had done their best to care for the wounded survivors. Under the command Captain Garrett all able-bodied rabbits had assisted in packing up camp and preparing to move on. By the time this was done the sun was beginning to rise in the sky, and in the grey light of dawn the carts began their rumble down the dirt road, leaving the sorrows and terrors of the night behind with their extinguished campfires and the unburied bodies of the fallen. 

Weezie climbed into the seat beside Percy and laid her head down on his shoulder. She felt sorry for the poor bucks out pulling the carts, but she was so  _ tired _ she didn't have much room to care. It wasn't long before she had drifted off, rocked to sleep by the jostling of the cart and Percy's even breathing.

Weezie woke with a start. She wasn't sure how long she had been asleep, but it had been several hours at least judging by the golden sunlight seeping through the cracks in the canvas cover. Most of the other rabbits were still asleep, splayed out on the jostling wagon floor or propped against the wall on benches. The cart seemed emptier than it had been when they had first set out from First Warren, and the thought made her heart sick. She had been too exhausted to feel sorry for those the wolves had taken, and was sickened to remember they had just left them behind- uncovered and unacknowledged. She hoped Garrett had a good reason for that. She still wondered why that had even happened. Weren't the wolves working for Morbin? Why would they attack and slaughter Morbin's slaves?

Sitting up carefully so as to not wake Percy-  _ which is something I probably don't have to worry about _ \- she thought grimly, she took a better look around. Delia was asleep on the bench next to her, her brown and white striped head using Weezie's leg as a pillow. She thought briefly of squirming out from underneath her, but she had nowhere to go. Reaching past Percy, she pulled the canvas cover back to take a look outside. 

The sun was shining down fiercely, casting harsh long shadows behind the rocks and evergreen trees. They were following a gravel road now, steadily climbing uphill. Weezie didn't like it- the stark absence of grass and shrubs. Tall patches of yellow grasses pushed their way up through the rocks and hard earth with pine trees clinging to the slopes that went up and up and up…

A wave of homesickness swept over her, nauseating her empty stomach. Oh how she longed for the grassy glades back home. The marshy riverside of Go Forth that ran through their farmland. The cozy little farmhouse where mother would be making breakfast… she fiercely blinked back the tears and let the canvas fall shut. She wasn't going to cry, and she didn't want to look at that barren landscape anymore. She didn't need to cry. She had Percy and Delia, and the other slave rabbits here with her. They would stick together and fight through it together. Right?

Despite having had time to sleep she still was so weary. So very weary of it all. She was heartsick for her family, homesick for her farm, and so tired of trying not to show it. All these rabbits looking to her as a leader? The guards watching her closely for her attitude. And Percy just sleeping, always sleeping and not waking up. She just wanted to lay her head down and sleep as blissfully as he seemed to be; unaware of everything around her. But she knew she couldn't do that. She couldn't give up and become as empty and broken as the rabbits around her. 

"Please wake up, Percy," she whispered softly. "I don't want to have to be brave." She squeezed her eyes shut, causing a few tears to run down her cheeks. 

The cart suddenly stopped with a jerk, jarring everyone in the cart awake and knocking several off their seats by the motion. Weezie had time to brace herself to keep her and Percy from falling off the bench, but poor Delia rolled from the seat and sat up looking dazed.

"What happened?" She said softly, widening her eyes in alarm. 

"I don't know," Weezie said, looking out the window again. "But I think we've stopped."

Most of the rabbits got to their feet, helping their fellows up off the wagon bed. Weezie edged closer to Percy. Her anger of before had subsided and the familiar fear of uncertainty was creeping in. When they had left First Warren the goal was to be free before they reached the slave camp.

"Maybe it's just another stop along the way?" Weezie suggested to the rabbits waiting expectantly for answers. They seemed to accept this answer, and looked as a group to the door as it swung open, causing them all to blink in the sudden light. 

"Everyone out," an unfamiliar uniformed buck commanded. "Wake up anyone's who's still sleeping, I want  _ everyone  _ out." 

Weezie didn't like this turn. She knew Percy wasn't waking up any time soon, but she knew she could get him out of the cart. 

"Delia," she called quietly. "Would you help me lift him out?" The doe nodded and offered her assistance, the two succeeding in lifting the limp buck onto the dusty ground outside. 

Despite the bright afternoon sun the air held a bitter edge to it, an occasional draft of wind ruffling the rabbit's fur. Weezie was warm underneath her dense curls, but she could see some of the other smooth coated rabbits clutching their jackets closer to themselves as they stood exposed on the rocky slopes. The carts had been parked in a wide open place, but off to the edges Weezie could see dense pine forests fighting their way up the mountain side. She didn't like how open it was, the washed out blue sky seemed to be staring down, watching the rabbits closely. She readjusted her grip on Percy, wondering how long it would be until she could find someplace where he could lay down and get some proper rest.

A few uniformed bucks stood apart from the slaves, judgmentally squinting at them in the bright sunlight while shouting and organizing them into one large crowd. Off to the side a group of officers were holding a conversation, gesturing frequently to the new shipment of slaves. Weezie recognized a few of them as the bucks that had brought them here, and was relieved to see Silas awake and apparently well, standing in their midst. 

At last, a large, squat brown buck stomped his way over, demanding the attention of the anxious slaves by his commanding demeanor. Weezie wondered if he was Overseer Morten. He definitely looked unpleasant enough to be the one in charge of this miserable slave camp.

"Welcome to the Red Bleaks. This is your new home.  _ Don't  _ try to run away," his eyes swept over the gathered crowd, adding on the last sentence with a weary condescending tone. 

"You will do as you are told exactly when you are told to do it. I don't care what you've done to get yourself sent here but I want you to know this: First Warren was a life of freedom and luxury. You're not going to get away with misbehavior here."

There were a few nervous glances shared between the newcomers.

"There are a few rabbits here with medical training. You will step forward when I call your name and join Officer Silas. He will take you to your assignment." He gestured in Silas' direction, who gave a curt nod.

"Hempfast," the brown buck continued, looking down at a paper held in his hand. The spotted buck responded to his name being called and trotted respectfully to behind Silas. 

"Ridgette, and Delia." He lowered the paper and looked over the rabbits as the two does made their way through the crowd. Delia gave Weezie's hand a squeeze before she left, Weezie giving her a sympathetic smile and an encouraging nod. She was disappointed that her medical experience from the last day wasn't enough to get her assigned along with Delia. Watching her walk away gave her a rueful twist in her stomach. She hoped they would see each other soon.

"I understand there was an attack on the way here. All rabbits unfit for work will be taken to the Medhut. Everyone else is to come with me, no exceptions."

Weezie watched the injured rabbits that could still stand be directed to where Silas and the nurses stood.  _ She _ wasn’t injured, but Percy definitely was, so she made her way edging through the crowd with him draped over her shoulder, hoping they had an actual doctor to look at all these poor rabbits. 

Silas was giving instructions to the gathered rabbits, organizing them into lines of two for the march up the hill, his injured arm wrapped against his chest. He noticed Weezie, giving her a dry stare with his dark grey eyes.   
“Are you injured?” He asked with a slight tilt of the head.   
Weezie gave a moment’s pause to consider her words before answering. 

“No sir, but Percy-”   
Silas cut her off. “If you are not injured you will go with Captain Jert and receive instructions for your stay here. You are not coming with us to Medhut because of your injured friend. Allow me to repeat Captain Jert’s words,  _ no exceptions. _ ”

Weezie drew her mouth into a frown, trying to control the swell of emotions. She would  _ not _ cry in front of Silas. She couldn't leave Percy. She'd promised Whit, promised him, promised herself. He needed her now just as much as she needed something, anything to cling to. She found herself wishing,  _ longing,  _ to have her mother here, or her sister, or just, to just be home again and not have to face this anymore. She couldn't give Percy up, if she did that, she'd be alone. Have to face this alone. 

"I-" she looked to the ground, unable to hold his gaze anymore. The anxious injured rabbits looked between Weezie and Silas. 

"Put the buck down girl, and go to your place." Colton said softly. She knew there was nothing for it. There was nowhere for her to go, she was stuck here now. This camp was her new reality, but Percy had been the last thing she had to hold on to- the last thing that had been giving her hope…She gulped down the heavy lump forming in her throat. 

"Put him down, on the ground, and walk away."

Despite her willing them away, tears blurred her vision as she gently lowered Percy to the ground. 

"I'm sorry," she whispered, choking on the tears. 

"I'm sorry," she said it again, shoving her fist against her mouth in an attempt to stop her quivery lip.

"Your friend will be cared for along with the other injured slaves. Now go." Silas said mechanically, almost as if reciting a pre-written script. Weezie rubbed at her eyes as she got to her feet out of the dust. 

"Yes, sir," she managed to choke out. Then she turned and ran, stumbling down the hillside, too devastated to look back.


	6. Runaway

Weezie stood in her place in line among the other captives, hugging her arms to herself and feeling hopelessly lonely. They had been gathered into a long shanty built from rough cut wooden planks, its walls reaching up to a sagging roof that seemed only barely held up against the harsh mountain weather. The building groaned and creaked as the bitter wind outdoors found every crack in the flimsy walls and whistled its way through, chilling the pitiful rabbits who were used to the gentle weather of the southern woods. 

She noticed a few rabbits coming and going through the hall about various tasks and assumed they must be slaves who had been taken captive earlier. She grimaced a little to see they weren't any more well dressed for the weather than the newcomers from the Great Wood were.

Captain Jert had spent the last half hour listing the rules and expectations for life here in the Red Bleaks, but Weezie’s mind kept wandering to other thoughts. She didn’t really care anymore. There really was no reason to care, if she had no one to care  _ for _ anymore. She felt numb and empty inside, like a part of her had fallen asleep, or even died. She stood there, as hollow-eyed and hopeless as the rabbits around her.   
  
“This is Officer Knel. He will go down the line and give you instructions of where you will report for work. Once everyone has been assigned you will go as a group to meet with your direct supervisor. These rules I have told you will apply to all departments, repercussions will follow for any disobedience to these commands.” Captain Jert nodded to another brown buck in uniform who stepped up next to him.    
“Thank you, sir,” Knel said with a slight bow. He then began walking down the line, hardly glancing at the rabbit in front of him as he read off a sheet of paper. He told each rabbit where they were assigned to work, then gave them directions to where they were to stand and who they were to follow to the next location. Weezie realized she hadn’t really heard any of the rules Captain Jert had outlined, but she reminded herself that she didn’t care. 

Knel finished the line ahead of Weezie and began working towards her, coldly assigning each rabbit their future. It struck Weezie as so wrong. There was no respect for life here, no consideration of the individual, what they would work best at or be capable of doing. The way they would spend their lives was forced upon them at the random command of a rabbit who could barely be bothered to speak their full name. But just as the fire awoke in her again, she quieted it down.  _ We're just slaves, this is the way things are, and they can never be any different. _ She reminded herself.  _ You don’t care Weezie, nothing matters anymore.  _   
“Louise...” Knel said, reaching her place in line. He gave a quick glance over her then continued in the most bored tone of voice Weezie had ever heard, “Coal mines. Camp Three. Go stand by the western window and wait for Officer Ortwel.” He gave a vague gesture with his free hand and continued on to the next rabbit, as blandly impersonal as before. And just like that, in the space of those few seconds, the rest of Weezie’s life had been determined for her.  _ The only way it could change would be from death or injury, _ she thought mournfully to herself, walking in the direction he had gestured.  _ I could have been assigned to the gardens, where I might be an actual help, me being a farmer and all but no, I’m a miner now. What kind of work does he even expect me to be able to do?  _ She wasn’t entirely sure which group she was supposed to be in, so she stepped up to one of the more alert bucks, whispering, “I was sent to the western window, are you waiting for Officer Ortwel?” The buck seemed alarmed to be spoken to, but nodded his head in answer.   
“Thanks,” she mumbled, settling into the group to wait.

Once all of the slaves had been assigned, Officer Knel adjusted the papers on his clipboard and stood erect, looking over the various crowds of uncertain rabbits.    
“Stay where you are until the expected personnel come to escort you to your places. Do  _ not  _ wander off and do not make excessive noise.” He gave them all one more swooping glare, then marched to the smallest group, speaking to them briefly and exiting the hut with those rabbits in tow. Captain Jert stood off to the side of the door, watching the rabbits with the preditoral glare of a falcon that looked utterly unsettling on a rabbit’s face.   
They didn’t have long to wait before a large, burly grey buck clomped into the room. His uniform was filthy, with a long leather whip coiled up against his belt and a rapier at his side. He spoke briefly to Captain Jert who nodded and called for Weezie’s group to step forward. They all moved together, a sinking feeling of despair at the sight of their assigned commander. He looked them over, a disgusted sneer distorting his features.    
“Ugh,” he said, addressing the shorter Captain next to him. “This is really the best they had for me this time, eh? Half of them are stinkin’ does.”    
Weezie’s fire flickered, but she silenced it. She didn’t care what he said- what he thought. It didn’t matter.    
Jert shrugged. “Doesn’t really matter, you said you wanted more hands.” 

Ortwel rolled his eyes with a grunt then addressed the crowd with a jerk of his head. “Follow me and mind you don’t lag.” His filthy hand fingered the whip at his waist as he turned and walked briskly out of the shed. Weezie and the others quickly followed, a few of the shorter rabbits jogging to keep up.   
  


They marched across the place the carts sat empty, slipping on loose stones as the open sky peered down at them, grey clouds racing across its surface in the sharp wind. A gravel paved cart-road broke away from the plateau, winding its way through the pines and around giant weather-eaten rocks that reared their massive heads out of the dirt. This was the path Officer Ortwel led the rabbits down, throwing a glare over his shoulder every so often to ensure the slaves were still following close behind.   
Weezie took in the surrounding landscape with numb indifference, or at least an attempt at indifference. It was hard for her to keep her gaze from wandering over the strange new landscape. She had never seen hills so steep, rocks so tall, forming gaping caves and crumbling away down the slopes. It might have been beautiful here at some point, but there were so many places where the trees had been hewn down- their stumps sticking jaggedly out of the earth, rocks blown to pieces and the earth left shockingly bare. Most of the ground they walked past was dry and cracked- wholly unsuitable for gardening of any type, but there were a few places where the pine needles fell thick and she guessed there was some good loam beneath that might yield a decent cabbage head or two, but again she reminded herself that she didn’t care. She was a miner now not a farmer.    
She looked down at her feet and watched herself take each step. She hurt so bad; not in her body but in her mind and heart. A consuming, heavy ache that seemed to be eating away at her. She wanted so badly to stop caring and let all the sorrow wash over her like a stone on the river’s edge, untouched and unmoved by the circumstances, but it was such a struggle to give in when it all felt so  _ wrong _ .    
_ It is what it is. _ She chided herself, watching her grey toes step over rough stones.  _ And there’s nothing I can do about it, so I may as well just accept it. _ Her face set and determined, she marched with the other slaves along the scarred mountain path.

Camp Three was even less impressive than Weezie had expected it to be. The massive trees had been cleared away, some of them just thrown over the side of a nearby ravine where they lay on the bottom of the lake like rotting ghosts of their past selves. The ground of the camp had been leveled just barely enough for the flimsy huts to be able to stand upright, but was still ridiculously uneven, with rises and ditches and potholes full of rotting leaves scattered throughout. Tall, ancient pines stood around on all sides, guarding the stoney paths that wound off in all directions with their deep, foreboding shadows. Like the plateau they had started from, the sky was unobscured over the top of the camp, likely- Weezie realized with a sickening jolt- for easier Preylord access. 

  
She hated it. Hated how the shanties creaked and groaned in the wind as they marched past. Hated how the weeds seemed to be choking their lives out from the dry rock. Hated how the sky seemed to glare down on her. Hated the rabbits who would turn on their own kind like this, enslave and abuse them for their own gain. She wanted to hate them. She wanted to fight back. To act out against their rules, against the idea they had any control over her. They had taken away everything she had ever loved, and she was so  _ tired _ . She wanted to not care anymore about anything. She didn't really know what she wanted or how to sort out the boiling cauldron of emotions inside her. All she knew for certain was that she wanted to be home again with her mother and sister. 

  
They entered another large building much like the one from earlier, splintered boards barely holding together to form drafty walls and a sagging ceiling. Officer Ortwel lined them all up to where he could see them, and marched back and forth in front, fingering his whip the entire time as he spoke.   
“This is Camp Three. There will be other Drivers you must answer to, but I am the Head here. You will do exactly as you are told or face the consequences, so you better learn the rules right quick, and if I hear any complaints-” he stopped in front of one very frightened young buck- younger even than Weezie was- and glowered down into his face.    
“No- no, sir,” the buck said, shrinking under his gaze. Ortwel struck him across the face, sending him flailing into the rabbit next to him with an alarmed cry.   
“Don’t speak unless spoken to,” Ortwel straightened with a sniff. 

“Bucks, you will be assigned to the mines. If you don’t know how to use a pickaxe now you’re gonna learn how to use one pretty quick. Does,” he paused, looking over the crowd with obvious disgust. “A few of you will go to the kitchen, but you can expect to find yourself going to the mines as well. I don’t care if you’re ‘not built for it’,” he said with a taunting whine to his voice. “You’re here to work, and you’re going to work at whatever I tell you to. You will be given your rations for the day, then you will begin orientation for your new job.” He pointed to the long tables and benches set up in the space behind them. “Sit.”    
The rabbits obeyed, climbing into their seats and not at all enjoying the fact that their backs were now to the surly commander. 

An ash furred doe with one eye swollen shut scurried into the room at the call of the Officer and began handing out packages of food to the seated rabbits from her bunched apron. 

"Save the cloth," she said quietly every so often to ensure everyone heard the instructions. "This is your entire ration until supper tonight." 

Weezie accepted her parcel gratefully, just glad they planned to feed them at all before setting them to work. She unwrapped the coarse fabric which held a slice of dry bread and a baked potato. Her stomach rumbled loudly as she very quickly set to work on the potato. It was still vaguely warm in her chilled hands, which was another little blessing she had not expected. Once finished it hardly seemed to make a dent in her appetite, but as she picked up the slice of bread she decided it would be wise to save it for later. Just in case. She folded the cloth carefully around the precious morsel and stuffed it into the pocket of her dress. The dusty blue fabric still held the stain from before, now dried to an ugly brown. The color would never come out, Weezie knew that, but it seemed so strange how quickly Percy had entered her life and exited it again, leaving nothing behind but his dried blood on her skirt. The wave of loneliness swept over her again, and even though her belly was slightly less empty, nothing could fill the emptiness in her heart as she looked around the table of unfamiliar, frightened faces.

While the slaves were given time to scarf down their food, several more filthy uniformed bucks arrived at the "Dining Hall". That's what Officer Ortwel had called it, if such a regal title could ever belong to a dilapidated shed. They chose which rabbits they wanted for their teams, leaving the most undesirable ones behind for the kitchen work. Officer Ripp was the Driver in charge of Weezie's team, a lean black buck with an ugly scar twisting the side of his muzzle into a permanent sneer. He led them out of the Dining Hall and back into the wind and sunshine, throwing an unsettling smug smile in Officer Ortwel's direction as he walked past.

Weezie was relieved when they finally crossed the open camp grounds and plunged into the shadows of the pines, following the winding mountain trail up through the trees. 

It wasn't as hard work as she had expected. Ripp assigned the does the task of clearing out the rocks that the miners had broken loose, loading them into carts and wheelbarrows to dump further down the mountain. There were many rabbits already at work there when they arrived, giving the newcomers a glance up from their work before returning their focus. Weezie saw not only bucks and does, but kits of all ages dodging around the feet of the adults clearing the rubble underfoot, while the smallest children were wrapped to their mother's backs with strips of wide cloth. The pickaxes kept on swinging as the new rabbits were shown what to do and set to work. Aside from the hollow gnawing in her empty belly, Weezie was grateful to finally be able to take her mind off how she was feeling and just focus on each rock as they piled up higher in the minecarts. 

They worked on for hours until the overseer finally called for a halt. Weezie was used to hard labor, but she took a seat gratefully, her limbs shaking from the exertion. She might have let herself work harder than she should have in an effort to keep her mind distracted. 

She licked her parched lips and looked around the dimly lit rocky chamber, fingering the parcel of bread in her pocket and considering giving it a nibble. She could easily tell apart the rabbits new to the camp from the older ones by the differing attitudes- some hugged themselves uncertainly while others lounged against the rocks, resting their limbs and chatting with their fellows over their crusts of bread. Weezie decided to follow their example and yanked her own crust from its hiding place, glancing around once more before tearing off a bite. 

She looked up to see a few does enter the mineshaft bearing buckets of water and dippers. They were hailed by the hearty shouts of the veteran miners and running thirsty children. Weezie easily picked out the new slaves from this crowd, as they timidly took cues from the does bringing water to the chatting groups of miners and joining in to their conversations. It struck Weezie as odd as she waited for her turn with a dipper, how cheerful these rabbits seemed to be. From the way the officers had been talking she had expected a life of drudgery, but these rabbits hardly behaved oppressed. Was it just because they were used to the treatment that they were able to still smile so broadly? Or were the officers completely mistaken in thinking their camp was worse than First Warren's terrors?

"Weezie?" A gentle voice broke her out of her thoughts. "I'm so glad- I didn't know you would be working here!" 

Weezie turned to see the blue and brown eyed doe standing before her with a bucket and dipper.

"Delia!" Weezie stood quickly and embraced her friend around the wooden bucket hanging from her shoulder. 

"I'm so happy to see you," she swiped away the tears that had suddenly gathered in her eyes. "I thought you were sent to work at the hospital."

"Well, in a way I was," Delia replied, smiling as broadly as her mild mannerisms would allow. "They assigned us to the medhuts that needed more staff, and I was sent here." 

She handed Weezie a dipper full of water that was drunk up eagerly.    
Weezie didn't really know what to say in answer to her. Her heart suddenly felt so full and warm in contrast to the struggle of despair she had been facing moments earlier. It struck her as strange that such a little thing could bring her so much delight and cut through the gloom. After losing so much, just seeing an acquaintance again- knowing at least one of the faces in a crowd of strangers- gave such a wave of relief to the tension she had hardly realized was there. She was so grateful for the coincidence of them both being assigned to the same camp. 

"Weezie," Delia said softly, handing her a second drink. "They split up the injured rabbits between the camps as well." 

"What?" Weezie was sure there was some significance she should catch in Delia's words, but her tired mind wasn't quite making the connection.   
“Officer Silas sent your friend Percy here with me. I thought you’d like to know that he was still… when I last saw him, but he’s here in Camp Three with both of us!”    
Weezie's mind blanked in disbelief, almost dropping the dipper that Delia was handing her into her lap.    
“He's what?” She asked, fumbling to save the water from sloshing across her dress and the stones at her feet. "Wait, he’s here? Where?” She stood up abruptly, causing the other doe to take a step back.    
“At the medhut,” Delia said, blinking in alarm. “I checked on him just a little while ago, don’t worry. He should be fine still. One of the nurses stayed behind with the injured rabbits so-"   
“No, no, I have to go see him,” Weezie said, handing the half-full dipper back to Delia. Delia looked up at her, eyes wide with alarm.    
“Weezie you can’t! I don’t think that would be allowed! You can’t just  _ leave _ !"   
Weezie gave her a dismissive wave as she stepped around her.   
“It’s okay, I’ll be fine. Just tell me where the medhut is, please,”

Delia looked around helplessly. "It's the long low one on the south side of camp with the white walls." She said with an anguished frown. "Please don't do this Weezie, you're going to get in trouble," she pleaded.

"Delia, I need to see that he's okay for myself," Weezie replied. She put her hands on the other doe's shoulders. Delia broke Weezie's gaze, looking to the ground. 

"Be careful then," she said softly. 

"I will."

In the relative disorder of lunch break Weezie managed to slip by the overseers unnoticed, taking off down the steep path at a full sprint. She regretted not taking the second drink Delia had offered her after she had been running for a good few minutes. She slowed to a jog, and then to a walk before finally leaning against a tree to catch her breath and still her spinning head. Her legs were wobbly from lack of water and little food, but she pushed off the tree and set off walking again down the hill, glancing over her shoulder every so often to see if she had been followed. She did  _ not _ want to be caught walking down the path alone.

After several more minutes of silent mountain path she came across a fork in the trail. Both paths wound their way through the trees and around boulders snaking off into the dry underbrush and fallen branches. Weezie gulped, turning around in a circle. Which one was the right one, and where would the wrong one lead? 

"Oh dear," she muttered under her breath. She tried peering through the trees but saw no signs of the camp. Just silent, cold forest with shafts of sharp golden sunlight cutting through the branches overhead bathing the rocky floor beneath. She let out a fussy little whimper as she swept her eyes over the forest again. She knew there were really only two options here- to go back to the mine or pick a path and see where it led. It was probably the wiser choice to return to her place, keep her head low and try to behave under these new rules, but she didn't  _ want _ to. Her heart ached from loss and lack of purpose, and she was loath to fill that hole with rocks and mine shafts. 

_ Mother would tell me to obey. Not to rebel. To do exactly what they tell me to. To survive.  _ Weezie thought, turning around to face the path back up the hill and the mine. 

_ But survive for what?  _ she added, taking a step backwards.

_ I have nothing to lose. I've already lost it all. _

She felt that tingle in the back of her nose- the threatening of tears- but she blinked them back and frowned.  _ Mother's not here. Nobody's here, and I'm not going to let them control me.  _

Weezie took one more step backwards, balling her fists. Then she turned and ran down the nearest path, into the pine woods and towards whatever destination awaited on the other side.


	7. Friends

Weezie ran down the path, stumbling over rocks and fallen branches. She didn't dare stop to catch her breath, or slow the furious beat of her feet. The tumult of emotions inside needed an outlet or she felt she might burst from it all. 

The trail did not seem familiar, but she wasn't sure if that was because of her pace, or the direction she was heading now- down instead of up- or if she had in fact chosen the wrong path. It did seem steeper than she remembered, at some points dropping to such an angle she nearly tumbled headlong down the hill. Deep ruts and ditches tried to trip her stumbling feet as low branches smacked her across the arms and face as she ran, puffing for breath.

Finally the screaming of her lungs and the stitch in her side brought her to a gasping halt. Her legs were shaking, threatening to buckle out beneath her as a wave of dizziness swept dark curtains over her vision. Weezie clung tightly to a nearby tree, blinking away the blackness until only spots remained- little black stars twinkling over the pinewood standing silently before her. She gulped, wishing for some kind of moisture to wet her parched throat. 

_Why did you do that?_ She asked herself as the pounding of her head calmed enough she could stand on her own. The moment was over, the heat of her rebellious decision, and she was left only with an emptiness inside. It felt good actually- almost a relief- after boiling for so long, to finally feel still. 

Gingerly she took a few steps forward, pressing a hand to the stitch in her side that tore with every breath. _Just gonna take it slow for a little while._

She smiled to herself despite the discomfort of her exhaustion. Percy was here! He was really here! She hadn't lost him, she would be able to see him again soon. She wouldn't be alone, she'd have something- _someone_ \- still to live for. The sun seemed to shine a little brighter through the branches overhead, and the chilly mountain wind felt pleasant on her fur. She was almost happy. 

It was a log. A huge, old, rotting log, stretched across the path. Some mushrooms were growing along it, sheltered from the harsh wind by its bulk, free to enjoy the warmth of the sun shining down through the gap the old tree's foliage had once filled. Dead leaves filled the crannies of its branches, bits of its massive body rotting away into dirt. It had obviously been there for a long time. Not that the log itself was a problem for Weezie, she could have easily climbed over it and continued on. But now she knew for certain she was headed in the wrong direction. There had not been a fallen tree blocking the path to the mine, she would have remembered climbing over it. So Weezie frowned at it, sitting for a moment's rest on one of its large sprawling branches. _Great._ She thought. _I've wasted all this time now. Will I even be able to make it to the camp before dark?_

She stood up with a sigh, turning to face the way she had come. One foot in front of the other. Up the hill and over the fallen leaves and gravel. She remembered the lake at the edge of camp and wondered if she'd be able to get a drink from it. Maybe there would be a stream along the way? She scrambled over a particularly steep rise, leaving the rotten log behind and out of sight. What would they do if they caught her? Had they noticed she was missing? _Would_ they catch her? Would Percy still be alive when she finally reached him? There was so much to worry about, it overshadowed the joy of before like grey clouds over a noonday sky. She felt it begin again, starting with an ache rising from deep down inside. Could anything ever be happy again? Or would it always be like this? Like waves crashing against the rocks. But Weezie didn't feel like a rock. She felt like one of the waves, crashing itself against an unchangeable truth and shattering into a million pieces, only to reform just to do it again. How many times could she break before it would be too much?

The sun was getting low on the horizon when Weezie finally stepped over a rise and saw the camp sprawled outside the ring of pines. The sun shone a deep gold, dark shadows cutting through its glow thrown by the solemn pines that watched the end of her march. She had found a stream to drink from on her way down the proper path, which cleared up the doubt over whether the lake was even safe to drink from. 

"The long, low, white building on the south side." Weezie muttered under her breath, squinting around the scattered buildings for any sign of trouble. But the camp seemed empty and silent, save for the hollow sound the wind made as it moaned around the rough buildings. Weezie found what she guessed was the medhut, and reached towards the door with a trembling hand. Should she knock? She wasn't sure, but she found she was already slowly pushing the door open so she may as well continue. 

The inside of the medhut was painted white as well, the floor made up of wooden boards smoothed by all the feet that had walked across them. A few benches slouched against the walls opposite each other, a sorry excuse for a desk and a very tired looking doe set against the third wall. She had her eyes closed with a thick blanket wrapped around her shoulders and tucked under her chin. Her head drooped to one side then slowly back upright again as Weezie stepped into the hut and let the door swing gently shut.   
Weezie looked around the room, unsure of where to go next. She had never been inside an “official” place of medicine before. Any cuts or ills she and Layra had suffered their mother had treated for them. This couldn’t possibly be the hospital room though, she knew, as there were no beds and no sign of Percy. 

Uncertainty, she walked towards the sleeping nurse. The doe showed no signs of waking, her nose whistling loudly with every breath. Weezie frowned. Should she wake her? She wasn’t sure how long her detour in the woods had taken her. Were Delia and the other nurses back yet, and if not, how much longer would they be? What would they do if they found her here? Would the nurses report her to the administration?   
She peered around the sleeping doe. She was rather certain she wouldn’t need help to find him, and wasn’t even sure the nurse would be of any help anyway. So she stepped past her and trotted softly down the hall beyond her. 

Turning the corner she found herself in the sickbay. Beds lined the room, their heads set against the walls with just enough space between them to place a chair or a small table. Most of them were occupied, bandaged rabbits sleeping under the off-grey covers. She wondered how many of them were survivors of the wolf attack last night.   
After a few minutes searching among the beds Weezie finally found the buck she was looking for. She sank down to her knees at his bedside with a whimper.   
“Percy,” she trembled, finding his limp hand underneath the blanket. “I- I’m so sorry I left you. I’m back now, it’s okay.”   
She wasn’t sure if he was the kind of person that needed comforted, he had seemed so confident and sure before… when he had been awake. Would he ever wake up? 

The nurses had wrapped his head all around in bandages, she couldn’t even see his face anymore. Would he be scared when he woke up, and found himself blindfolded like this? Weezie sniffed. Her limbs trembled under the effort of standing again. 

“I’ll be right back,” she patted his hand. “I’m just going to grab a chair.” 

She sat beside his bed, close enough to reach his hand in case he did wake up, and ate the rest of her breadcrust from lunch. After she swallowed the last bite, she told him everything that had happened to her since they split up, from the ugly faces Captain Jert had made at her to her stumbling run through the woods. 

He was in a coma, Delia had told her, unaware of any of his surroundings. He couldn’t hear or feel or see anything. Weezie wasn’t too sure about that, but even if he couldn’t hear her she still needed to tell somebody what had happened, and if he could hear, wouldn’t he want to know? 

“I suppose I should leave now,” Weezie said, looking down at the sleeping buck. “Before they find I’m gone and I get in trouble. But I don’t really care, and I don’t want to leave you again.” 

She looked down at her filthy hands resting in her lap, her blue skirt stained with dirt and blood. 

“I don’t _want_ to care,” she whispered. 

She waited for some kind of response from Percy. Anything. A twitch of the ear, a shift of his hand, a slight frown. But there was nothing. It was like he was dead, and Weezie realized like a slap to the face- she was still alone. She smeared the tears out of her eyes as she stood from the chair. 

“I’ve got to go now, Percy, before they find me,” she said with a catch to her voice. “You have to rest now and get better, okay?” 

She gave his hand one last squeeze before she turned to go, casting a glance over her shoulder. 

“I need something to hope for,” she said softly.

The sun was setting now. Brilliant red, orange, and pink streaks snaked across the sky, reminding Weezie of the ribbons she liked tying into Layra’s dark fur. The pines bordering the camp were dark and foreboding, their shadows reaching out towards the empty shanties like greedy hands. Weezie shuddered and looked away. She wasn't sure where she should go next but she certainly wasn't going anywhere near the woods. 

Some of the larger sheds had lamps lit inside, slivers of light striping the ground outside while forms moving within cut shadows through their irregular pattern.

Weezie frowned. Based on her previous experiences, if the slaves were back from the mines they would probably get another briefing before being sent to bed. Which hut was it they were given the last briefing in?

Hugging her arms close to herself against the evening chill, she stepped out of the medhut's doorway to reorient herself. As she rounded the corner of the shack she realized she should have been a little more cautious.

"You! What are you doing?" The buck's voice said. In the grey light of dusk she could tell he was uniformed and that she was in trouble. Should she lie? But it was too late, she was already speaking.

"I'm going back to the rest of my group."

She tried to make herself sound believable, but she wasn't exactly sure what 'believable' should sound like.

"What group? What were you doing at Medhut?" He was walking closer now, hand on his sword hilt. Weezie considered running, but she knew she was too tired, too hungry to last long if it turned into a chase.

"I- I got hurt, at the mine."

She felt a sickening jolt in her stomach as the words came out of her mouth. That was a  _ lie _ . She had just  _ lied _ to the guard. She swallowed the guilt and hoped he would believe her.

"Hurt? Hurt how. Where's your release slip?"

"I… left it inside," she said faintly.

"Right," the buck scowled. "Captain! Something over here for you!"

Weezie felt a jolt of panic. They had caught her. What were they going to do? Would they beat her? Kill her? She reminded herself she didn't care. All she had left to care about was Percy, and he was probably going to die any minute now like Delia said, so she held firm as a second buck strode up.

"What is it?"

Weezie recognized Captain Ripp's sneering tone and swallowed heavily. He reminded her too much of the cruel Captain Daggler and his men. 

"I think it might be one of the new ones, Sir." He replied. "Says she got hurt at the mine?"

"Oh did she?" Ripp turned to look at the doe fiddling nervously with the skirt of her dress. "I don't recall any injuries," he said with a smile in his voice. He took a step towards her.

"Sneaking off are we? Don't you remember the rules?"

Weezie remained silent, watching him approach like a predator towards its prey.

"Do you remember what I said, about leaving without permission?"

He stepped quite close, almost breathing down into her ear.

"I hope you do."

In all honesty Weezie  _ hadn't  _ heard what he said about leaving without permission, she just hadn't been listening, but she certainly was not going to tell Captain Ripp that.

She kept her eyes fixed straight ahead of her, trying to keep herself from shuddering away from him.

A troop of bucks walked past them through the gathering night with pickaxes over their shoulders and coal on their faces and hands. Their conversations and laughter grew silent as they drew near to where Weezie and the officers stood, continuing their march silently as they passed them and headed to the dining hall.

Ripp watched, a judgmental squint over his face as he surveyed the group. He was so close Weezie could smell the sweat in his fur and the dirt on his clothes. Her stomach churned and she tried not to gag.

He watched the miners troop past for a moment, then sniffed and looked back down to Weezie.

"Do you have any excuses for me?" He smiled.

"None that I want to give," Weezie replied, looking straight ahead. She wasn't about to tell this cruel rabbit about her ill friend. He laughed and roughly grabbed her by the arm.

"Alright then. Gryce, you got a rope on you?"

"I do, Sir." The guard replied, reaching down to his belt for the loop of rope that hung there. Weezie's heart hammered in her chest as she tried to keep her expression composed. She wasn't going to show them her fear like she had done when Daggler took her away.

_ It is what it is. I can't change what they're going to do to me. All I can do is be brave. _

She had survived longer than she thought she would have- down in Daggler's dungeon, and even if they killed her now, at least Percy had escaped. At least they spared Daggler the pleasure of killing them both. 

Ripp kept a firm grip on Weezie's arm as Gryce moved to hand him the rope.

"Tie her up, come on faster," Ripp said. Weezie wondered why he would be in such a hurry.

" _ Officers _ ," a third voice spoke, an edge of jest to the reprimanding tone. 

With a growl, Ripp turned to the speaker. One buck stood apart from the rest of the passing miners, tall and erect, silver grey with black around his eyes and ears, his muzzle and hands white. He struck a rather imposing figure in the gathering dusk, one eyebrow cocked with his hands resting on the pickaxe in front of him.

"I see you're having a bit of trouble?"

It sounded far less like a question then it did a challenge- or even a taunt- Weezie thought as the buck tossed his pickaxe up and caught it by the handle. He walked towards them, a condescending quirk to his smile.

"Mind your business, Joden," Ripp snarled. Weezie felt his grip on her arm tighten.

"Has this doe done something wrong?" Joden addressed Ripp, but entirely ignored what he had commanded him.

"I said mind your business, Joden!"

Joden's eyes flashed to Weezie. He looked at her for a moment, then looked over her head at the black buck holding her arm.

"If she's done nothing wrong, what is it you are doing, Officer?" He allowed his pickaxe to slide to the ground so he could rest his hands on its head once more. Weezie gulped and looked down.

"You know the rules, Joden." Gryce glowered.

"Mm, yes I do." Joden shifted his weight to one leg. "I'm just wondering are you bucks following them right now."

Weezie felt a shiver go through her body. She wasn't sure if she was afraid or awed right now, there was just something about the way the silver buck commanded himself that just felt… powerful.

"Mind, your business, Joden." Ripp's grip on her arm increased, and Weezie had to stop herself from crying out.

"You're not answering me," Joden replied. "What rule did she break?"

The glower on Ripp's face darkened but he said nothing. Joden looked down to Weezie. She had her face turned away from the bucks, biting down on her bottom lip while trying to withstand the pain in her arm. Joden tilted his head to the side and caught her gaze.

"What did you do?" He asked gently. His eyes flicked up to Ripp, warning him not to silence her.

Weezie hesitated a moment before answering in a strained voice. "I left the mine before I was dismissed." 

She was not ashamed of what she had done. Not in the slightest. If given the choice she would have done it again. She had nothing to lose, since all she felt like she had was Percy, and he was sleeping safely in the medhut behind her.

"Are you one of the rabbits who arrived here this morning?"

Weezie nodded. Ripp's grip had tightened further. She could feel tears starting in the corners of her eyes. She wouldn't give him the pleasure of hearing her cry. She wouldn't. She wanted to reach up and pry him off, twist herself so the grip would lessen, do  _ something  _ to make it more bearable, but instead she stood still.

"Perhaps then," Joden said, shifting to stand on his other leg and looking Ripp full in the eyes. "There has been a misunderstanding here. Having all those rules dropped on you at once," he shook his head. "It can be quite easy to forget one or two within the first few  _ hours _ of arrival. I think, Captain, this has been enough of a punishment to stick this rule into her mind, don't you think?"

"Shut. Your trap,  _ Joden _ ." Ripp growled, spitting his name like some kind of insult. He pulled sharply up on Weezie's arm, causing shooting pain all the way into her shoulder. She couldn't stifle the gasp as she stumbled forward a step.

"Please, let go of her arm. Hand her over to me and I'll teach her the rules. You won't need to beat her tonight. And if you catch her breaking something again, you get to punish me instead, eh? Sound like a deal?"

Joden held one hand out in Weezie's direction, not as a request for a handshake but a demand for what he asked to be handed over.

Gryce smiled and looked to his officer hopefully. Ripp stared at Joden for a moment that felt like an agonized lifetime to Weezie as she gasped, trying to relieve the awkward twist of her arm.

"Alright then, you've got you a deal." Ripp finally replied with a twisted smile. He shoved Weezie forward and off her feet, her head nearly colliding with the pickaxe Joden held in front of him. Joden caught her under the arm and helped her to her feet.

"Thank you," he said with a nod. "Have a good night, gentlemen."

Weezie couldn't tell if the last comment was meant as mockery or not, but for the moment she was just consumed by the relief she felt in her arm.

"We'll be watching," Gryce said with a grin as he returned to his post.

"Good," Joden replied with a smile. "That is your job, after all."

Ripp stood glaring at the silver buck, the scarred sneer on his muzzle standing out ugly in the red light of the setting sun. Joden met his gaze and the two bucks stared at each other for a few moments. Finally Ripp broke the silence.

"Watch yourself, Joden. One of these days, you'll go a little too far." He drew the other side of his mouth into a smirk to match his scar that gave the impression of a sickly smile. He then turned abruptly, walking briskly with his hand on his sword hilt into the quickly spreading darkness.


End file.
